


Symbiotic

by SLynn



Series: Recruitment [15]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint has a plan, F/M, Gen, Team Building, Violence, mentions of prior abuse, tagging is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 59,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2022768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLynn/pseuds/SLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As SHIELD decides to work with someone new, the Avengers are learning just how well they really work together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Much to my own surprise, I'm still writing this beast. For clarification, for this AU, the only films that are including are the ones up until The Avengers. Probably after Age of Ultron comes out, I'll start something new and build from there, but I was so far off track by the time Iron Man 3 came out that there was just no going back. I'm still writing this and will post when I can. Hopefully that will be often. Thanks and enjoy!

Clint's eyes shifted slightly at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. He'd tried to be quiet, the movie was practically on mute, but knew it wasn't so much the sound as it was the space. Natasha sensed movement and vacant space, and had probably been awake as long as he had been.

"I thought you loved sleep," she said with a sly smile as she slid onto the couch and curled her feet under her legs.

Reflexively Clint checked the clock and was surprised to find it much later than he'd imagined. He sighed but said nothing, only clicked off the television and turned his attention to Natasha. His hand falling easily to her knee. Perfectly content to sit in silence.

"Are we going to talk about this?" she asked.

"I was gassed to sleep for four months," he shrugged. "I can't just fall off anymore. I don't know."

"Still?" she asked, because it had been over six months ago.

"Still," he repeated.

"Isn't that why medical gave you sleeping pills?"

"I'm not taking those."

"Then throw them out."

"What's your problem?" Clint asked, without a trace of anger. She wasn't being confrontational, and he knew it. She was just being herself.

"You know my problem."

"I know what you say the problem is," Clint said, "but I don't think Carol alone is keeping you up at night. Phil says she's fine. That used to be good enough."

"He's lying."

"About what?" Clint asked and Natasha stared at him blankly before shrugging her shoulders indifferently. "Do you think I'm lying, too?"

"No," she admitted, getting to her feet and heading for the kitchen. "I just don't think you know any more than I do."

"Well, glad you still think I'm stupid," he returned, stretching his arms over his head before leaning back into the couch.

Natasha, rummaging around in the kitchen, laughed and Clint couldn't help but smile. After all the back and forth between them, after everything they'd been through together and separately, they'd fallen into an easy and surprisingly domestic pattern. 

In the end, the simple act of being together was the easy part. 

Everything else was still hard.

"You're not stupid," she said, returning with two cups of tea. "You just don't want to see the truth. Or hear it."

Clint stopped, his cup partway to his lips as he frowned.

"They're both lying," Natasha said as if it didn't really matter. "We're all liars."

"Why are you in such a mood?" Clint asked, finally irritated the way she'd probably intended. She got more out of him irritated. It was why he strived to be so goddamn Zen - not that he every actually achieved it. His patience was always surface deep; an act.

A good act. 

"Why are you out here in the middle of the night?" Natasha asked in return. "It's not because you can't sleep. If you wanted to sleep you'd be at the gym. Or in my arms. You'd exhaust yourself until you had no other choice but to sleep. I know you. I know you better than you know you."

"I'm not so sure I'm that complicated," Clint countered, still trying to avoid the issue. Still trying to work himself out of his anger by making light of her remarks.

It wasn't really working.

"But instead of working out your aggression, you're here," she persisted. "You're out here on the couch watching a movie you've probably seen. You knew I wasn't asleep. Why pretend? Why the effort?"

"I can't just be polite?"

"Have you ever just been polite?"

"I've turned over a new leaf," Clint said with a bitter smile, getting to his feet and tired of drinking his tea.

Still tired of being tired.

"If that's true," Natasha said in-between sips, still seated on the couch as if they were discussing anything but his life. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Whatever it is that's on your mind," she sighed. "Whatever it is that is keeping you up all night. Whatever it is that you're hiding."

"I thought Phil lied," Clint spit out, finally at his breaking point. He loved Phil, and he loved Natasha, but he'd always disliked the idea of them talking about him when he wasn't around. He knew they did it. Hell, he did it to them, but that didn't mean he had to like or condone it.

"About Carol," Natasha clarified, knowing she'd inadvertently triggered a land mine. "Not about you. He sees that, too, though. He knows. Sooner or later..."

"There's nothing wrong."

"Liar."

"Aren't we all?" Clint shrugged, sitting back by her side.

"Okay," Natasha sighed, setting down her mug and turning her body towards his, "you don't want to tell me. I don't need to know."

"Really?" he asked sarcastically.

"Really," she returned in a too sweet voice. Clearly if he was going to put on an act, she had an equally compelling one in mind. "Just tell me one thing."

"What?"

"You're scared."

"Are you asking me something?"

"No," she answered, leaning her head back against the couch as she continued to look in his eyes. "I'm telling you. I know you, remember?"

"I know you do," Clint said quietly.

"You're scared," Natasha repeated with complete confidence, "but how much? How scared are you?"

"You don't already know that, too?" he asked with a laugh, still trying hard to pass the whole thing off as a joke.

"I used to know," she shrugged. "It's been awhile."

"So tell me what you think," he said, scooting towards her and pulling her into his arms. "What's your guess?"

"Hmm," she said, resting her head against his shoulder, her back to his chest. Taking a deep breath before continuing, "I think it's more than that time in Barbados."

"Gun runners."

"Yeah," she said with a little nod, smiling as he dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head. "Definitely more than Barbados."

"I wasn't scared then."

"You were," she disagreed and this time he laughed. "Now isn't like then. You're more scared now, but it's not nearly as bad as your bathtub phobia. It's somewhere between Barbados and baths."

Clint didn't answer. He tried to keep his breaths as steady as they had been before she'd said it. Tried not to react, which he knew was a mistake. For Natasha a non-reaction was a reaction.

"You still have control," she added and he found himself nodding in agreement.

Natasha pulled herself free from his arms and put her hands on either side of Clint's face to look him in the eyes. 

"When you're not," she said, her tone and voice rigid and firm, "I will expect answers."

"What if I'm not ready to give them to you?"

She answered him with a kiss.

*****

"This is..." Tony started to say, looking at Steve and shrugging his shoulders at a loss. "Why? Why?" he repeated, turning to Fury; almost as confused as he was angry.

"The Council feels that they can provide valuable information," Fury answered with little inflection.

Every person in the room knew how Fury felt. There was no point in being vocal over it.

"Have you told Agent Coulson?" Steve asked.

"I have," Fury said with a short nod.

"What about Clint?" Tony asked.

"Agent Coulson has requested that he be allowed to tell both Barton and Danvers," Maria answered.

Tony nodded, realizing he should have guessed as much. He looked back to Steve briefly before turning to Fury and Hill. He didn't know what to say. For maybe the first time in his life, when Tony absolutely needed to talk, he found it nearly impossible.

"What's changed?" Steve finally asked, shaking his own head and clearly unhappy. "What changed their minds?"

"They did," Fury said plainly. "The Skrulls. They may not have convinced enough people that their actions were... justified, but they convinced the right people."

"And we know for certain that the people they convinced are in fact people?" Steve asked, still trying to wrap his head around the change.

Five minutes ago the Skrull invaders who had slowly been taking control of SHIELD, who had kidnapped and impersonated their friends and colleagues, were the enemy.

And now...

"We can never be certain," Maria admitted. "They can tell us that they've taken and passed the tests. That they are who they say they are. They can show us results, but we know those can be faked. We know what extent they are capable of covering up their tracks so... No. We can't know that. We'll never be certain."

"We should work on the assumption that they are not," Fury added.

"How do we do that?" Tony asked, finally finding his voice again. "Are we suppose to assume anyone we don't know personally is a Skrull? What about the people we do know? Are we going to test ourselves daily? Should we suspect anyone on the team that goes on vacation? That goes on a solo mission? That goes out for the night? When does it end? Where's the line? To be honest here, this whole body snatching-space invaders is a nightmare that I try hard not to think about. They could literally be everywhere. And I am using literally correctly in this situation. Literally. Everywhere."

"They're not everywhere," Maria said with a roll of her eyes.

"Not yet."

"You already have security measures in place," Fury said with a shake of his head. "Deputy Hill and I passed through those safety measures on the way through the door. The Tower is safe."

Tony didn't deny it. It was the first thing he'd done after they'd arrived back from the mission to recover Phil and Clint. Skrulls had a lower body temperature than humans. The tricky part was adapting the new security measures to account for Thor and Carol, who both ran warmer than average. He wasn't lying about this being a nightmare scenario, but he wasn't overly concerned with Skrulls impersonating his loved ones. Tony was more concerned about the people he didn't now. The ones he'd have no reason to suspect as acting out of the ordinary.

"You want the system for SHIELD," Steve guessed.

"For my office at least," Fury said with a near laugh, "but no. Not all of it. For Hill and Coulson. Certain key locations that will allow us to know where they're going."

"You want me to help you spy on the spies?" Tony asked.

"Do you object?"

"No," Tony said, shaking his head. "I can hide the program in a sub-file and Sitwell can load it into the system. You've already got scanners all over SHIELD, it will just be a question of where you want to watch. It will give you a discrete way to remotely track their movements."

"What good will that do?" Steve asked, still not understanding what good it would do. 

"They want to be a part of SHIELD," Fury answered, "then I want to know why. What programs are they interested in? Who are they shadowing? What are they really after? We start by following their movements. Let's see what piques their interests."

"I won't let them in the Tower," Tony said, shaking his head definitely.

"They don't want in," Maria returned crisply.

"What?" Tony questioned, still confused.

"They haven't requested access to the Tower. Or the Avengers," Fury said. "They do not want any of the files. Or to do their own interviews. They've asked for nothing other than that we listen and let them observe. They want to help."

"They just want to help?" Tony returned skeptically.

"They took two of our own," Steve said, also trying to puzzle this new turn out. "So... does that mean they already have what they wanted?"

"Maybe," Fury shrugged.

"We confiscated all the records," Maria said, shaking her head. "The information they wanted from Coulson and Barton appeared to be personal. Information that their doppelgangers could use to better portray them. They've had people inside of SHIELD for decades, comparatively what they could have learned from Coulson and Barton was insignificant to the intel they already potentially possess."

"What are they after?" Tony asked quietly, leaning back to consider the sudden shift.

"They seem very concerned about the Kree," Maria said, equally at a loss.

"We've heard that tune," Steve put out there.

"And I'm not saying they're wrong," Fury said as he got to his feet, signaling the end of the meeting. "I'm not discounting the Kree as a threat. But I'm not ready to make peace with the Skrulls either. You'll be receiving official word tomorrow. The WSC demands the Avengers cooperation and I expect each of you to be alert. Do we all understand one another?"

"Got it," Tony said, giving a half-hearted salute as he stood up. "Let me walk you out," he continued as they headed for the door. "Tell me about Paris."

"Tell you about Paris," Fury repeated with a faux-angry, sarcastic tone as the elevator doors shut on them.

Leaving, as Tony probably planned, Steve and Maria alone.

"How was Paris?" Steve asked with more genuine curiosity than Tony had before him.

"It was beautiful," Maria answered, relaxing for the first time as she sunk back in her chair. "At least I'm told it's beautiful. The only part of Paris I ever see are the SHIELD offices, which look exactly the same no matter where they happen to be."

With a faint smile, she tapped her foot against his and Steve leaned forward, taking hold of Maria's hand as she sat upright.

"I missed you," he said quietly.

"It felt like it was longer than six days," she admitted. "It felt like months," Maria added with a faint laugh, as if she didn't quite believe it herself. "I missed you, too."

"Are you..." Steve asked, moving closer as he spoke.

"Off duty?" Maria finished before checking the clock. "Officially I've been off duty for three hours now."

"Good to know," he said before kissing her softly on the lips.

Maria let out a contented sigh as Steve pulled her chair closer to his, kissing her again before leaning back.

Unwittingly, she yawned and Steve let out a laugh.

"Am I boring you?"

"No," she smiled, shaking her head and despite her protest, yawning again. "I've been up now for twenty-six hours and I'm expected back at HQ in another four."

Getting to his feet, Steve gently tugged Maria to her own and led the way towards the elevators.

"You need a nap," he said as he pressed the call button.

"I don't want a nap," she said, leaning against him and enjoying that now-familiar flutter of nerves.

Steve wrapped his arms around her and hesitated. Despite all the time they'd spent together, he still hesitated but at least now Maria knew not to take it personally. He was cautious and never made assumptions when it came to the two of them.

He asked. He always asked.

"Do you want to stay with me tonight?"

Maria loved that about him, amongst other things. Not that she found that sentiment easy to express.

"I would like that a lot," she said, pressing the button for his floor before she leaned up and kissed him.

"Good," he said as he pulled her a little closer, "because you really shouldn't drive."

"I'm a little punchy," she admitted as the doors opened again and they headed for his room. "I was fine while I had the meeting to focus on but now..."

"You need to sleep," he repeated, letting her walk through the door first and then ushering the way to the bedroom.

Maria had stayed over often enough to have clothes and other assorted items scattered about, but she wasn't lying; she did feel punchy. And exhausted. The whole situation, the stress of everything that was going on inside and outside of SHIELD, was beginning to take its toll. While her mind had been occupied with work, Maria had been alert but now it all seemed to strike her at once.

"I don't want to sleep," she sighed, locking her hands behind his neck and leaning against him in the still dark room. "I've missed you and..."

They had so little alone time.

"I'll still be here tomorrow," he assured her, kissing her quickly before he leaned her back against the bed.

"I missed you," she repeated, nearly asleep before the last word left her lips.

"I'm right here."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I thanked my beta yet? Thank you Tripp3235! Also -- um, and I know I'm not alone in this but... I need SDCC footage. Now. So many good things to come in the MCU! Hopefully you like this next chapter. Enjoy!

"Hey!"

Bruce's head jerked up from the desktop sending a stack of papers falling to the floor. "What?" he asked, scanning the room for a moment before finally landing on the source of the voice. On the person who had woken him from his inadvertent nap.

"I'm sorry," Bobbi said with an embarrassed chuckle. "I know I shouldn't have," she said as she set down the bag she'd carried and hurried to begin cleaning up the mess, "but I had to. I had to. It's childish and immature but..."

"Dangerous," Bruce added as he leaned down and helped.

"...funny," she finished with a smile. "It was funny."

"It would be less funny had the other guy decided to make an appearance," he pressed, standing up and stretching into a yawn.

"If the other guy popped up every time you were startled this building would be full of holes."

Bruce didn't argue with her this time. Bobbi was right. The other guy was surprisingly content here in the Tower. Bruce felt it.

Instead of finding comfort in that realization, it unnerved him.

"What are you doing here?" Bobbi asked, leaning against the desk as Bruce sat down again and logged back onto his computer.

"It's not even eight in the morning and you're wondering what I'm doing here?" Bruce asked in return. "You don't even live here yet, Bobbi. What are you doing here?"

"You wore that yesterday."

"All my clothes look alike," he said making her laugh. "What? Do you think that if you just get here early enough each day and leave late enough each night Tony won't notice that your room is still unoccupied?"

"I'm moving," she said, shrugging it off with a wave. "I am."

"You can't fight Tony."

"Apparently, you can't," she agreed, "and I couldn't sleep. Started thinking about those tests we'd ran and knew you'd be up so... I brought donuts."

"What kind of donuts?" he asked, eyeing the bag she'd brought in with interest.

"Maple glazed," she smiled as she retrieved said treats and set them down at the counter. "The only kind there is."

"Someone has to introduce you to sprinkles."

"Well, someone should get out every so often and pick up their own."

"These are good," Bruce said around a mouthful, causing Bobbi to roll her eyes.

"You're welcome," Bobbi returned, heading over to her own workstation to begin. "What have you got going on?"

"Not much, but speaking of Tony, he stopped by last night. Wants to make certain we're encrypting all of our files."

"We are," Bobbi said, confused by the request.

"I know."

"So, what happened?"

"I don't know," Bruce said with a shrug. "Something set Tony off so... be warned."

"Well, no one called me last night, so I'm going to go off of the assumption that the world isn't coming to an end."

"Good call."

"What do you think happened?" Bobbi asked seriously.

"It could honestly be just Tony being Tony," Bruce admitted, but as he said it he caught sight of Phil. Already in his suit. Walking quickly down the hall. "Or not."

Bobbi turned in the direction Bruce was looking and immediately grew tense.

The two of them watched as Phil scanned the lab and moved on without stopping.

Out of habit, Bobbi took out her communicator and gave it a once over. Seeing no new messages, she put it away again and glanced back at Bruce.

He looked as perplexed as she felt but neither of them spoke. People hurrying the halls of the Tower wasn't anything new. Likely the problem, if there was a problem, was already contained and so they settled in and got back to work.

"Good morning," Jane said as she arrived, fifteen minutes later with a cup of coffee in one hand and Darcy trailing a few steps in her wake.

"You're early," Bobbi commented without looking up.

"Her boy-toy is back on Asgard," Darcy smirked, sliding on to the counter after retrieving a donut of her own. "What else is she supposed to do?"

"Please don't call him that," Jane sighed as she began flipping on the various machines she'd be using.

"Please," Bruce stressed under his breath.

Darcy only smirked knowingly as she picked apart her pastry.

"So," Jane said as soon as she'd gotten set up. "What's going on today?"

"Same as yesterday," Bobbi said cautiously, stopping and giving the other woman her full attention.

"Why?" Bruce asked, also eager to hear if there was more to hear.

"It's not even eight yet and everyone is awake," Darcy explained. "And dressed. And sober. That's not right."

"Phil looks tense," Jane added, coming closer to the group and leaning back against the nearest counter. "Jasper and Maria have taken over the conference room. Pepper is holed up in her office and Tony --"

"Is headed this way," Darcy interrupted, sliding off the counter as the four of them turned and watched Tony's arrival. "What's up?" she asked as soon as he'd entered the lab.

"Good," Tony said, ignoring Darcy's question as he focused on Bobbi. "You're here already. Movers are heading to your apartment as we speak. No more fence sitting. You're going to be a full time occupant as of now."

"Okay," Bobbi answered hesitantly. "Can I ask why the sudden rush?"

"You can," Tony said with a nod, "but not right now. We're going to have a general all-hands kind of meeting in about..." he said, trailing off as he checked his phone, "...I don't know when. Soon. This morning. We'll discuss it then."

"What's going on?" Bruce asked.

Tony stopped and let out a huff of air, rubbing his face before turning and shaking his head.

"Soon," was all he said. "Just, everyone hang out," Tony said as he backed out of the room.

No one said anything until Tony was on the elevator and off of the floor.

Darcy let out a low whistle. "Wow. He is so bad at that. No wonder Pepper runs the business. Maybe she should run the Avengers, too."

"He does seem... nervous," Jane hemmed.

"I don't think he's slept in a week," Darcy countered. "Or ever. He really shouldn't like operate heavy machinery or try and keep state secrets in his condition."

"Anxious," Jane decided. "He seems anxious."

"How much caffeine do you think he's had?" Darcy said, continuing to ask Jane questions which the other woman hardly seemed to hear.

As the two of them exchanged banter, Bruce's attention shifted from the elevator Tony had left on and back to Bobbi.

One look confirmed it for him. It wasn't nerves or anxiety Tony had been displaying. Something deep in Bruce's chest had connected with it. Bobbi saw it, too.

It was anger.

*****

Phil hesitated outside of the door to Carol's bathroom not sure if he was ready for this conversation.

Not helping the matter was the fact that the shower was running, Clint was waiting in the other room, and technically Carol didn't know either of them were in her private rooms.

"Do you want me to knock?" Clint asked and Phil could hear the smile in his words.

Instead of answering, he did what he came to do and rapped loudly against the door.

"Yeah?" Carol hollered over the din.

"Sorry to disturb you," Phil called out.

"What do you need?" Carol returned without a hint of anger or annoyance.

"To talk," Phil answered. "Clint's here. I need to talk to both of you."

For a beat there was silence. The shower had turned off and there was absolutely no sound coming from any part of her room.

"Give me a minute," she said, her voice closer to the door than it had been. Carol was no longer shouting.

"Take your time," Phil said, turning to go, but before he got far she called out his name. "Yes?" he asked in return.

"I had that dream again last night," Carol said.

"You should have called."

"I can't keep doing that," she said softly. "It's not fair."

"Yes, you can," he countered as if it wasn't something they were going to argue about. "It's what I'm here for."

Without waiting for a response, Phil left her bedroom, shutting the door behind him and sat down in the nearest chair. Clint stared at him expectantly but that never bothered Phil. He'd be more concerned if the other man wasn't staring.

"So?" Carol asked as she stepped through the door five minutes later wearing sweatpants and a tank top, her hair still wet.

"Have a seat," Phil said, motioning to the side of the couch Clint wasn't occupying as he got to his feet. He stopped and took a breath. Better to just get on with it. "The World Security Council has decided to work with the Skrull leader."

For a moment there was complete silence. Phil looked first to Clint and then Carol, but neither of them registered any kind of reaction. 

Just as he was starting to explain further what this meant, Clint laughed.

Really laughed.

"No, come on," Clint said, leaning back and slinging his free arm across the back of the couch. "What's going on?"

"Having inventoried and dissected the Kree machinery at the newly discovered outpost, the Council feels that the Kree pose a more immediate threat."

Clint stopped laughing.

He stopped laughing and smiling and started to stare again. This time, not at Phil, but at the floor.

"Newly discovered outpost," Carol repeated quietly, her jaw set dangerously tight. "Would that be some new outpost I haven't heard of, or is this the same one that our new allies, the Skrulls, kept us locked up in like lab rats?"

"It's the same."

"This isn't happening," Clint said, tipping back his head to stare instead at the ceiling.

"And these Kree, that we've never had any dealings with... none, really that wasn't caused or created by Skrull interference... they're the immediate threat? They're the most immediate threat?" Carol questioned. Each word coming from her mouth a little louder than the last.

"I am not happy about any of this," Phil said as evenly as he could. "Neither is Director Fury."

"Then why is he going along with it?" Clint snapped.

"He has his reasons."

"Which are?" Clint pressed, tired of finding more questions in place of answers.

"There's an all-hands meeting in ten minutes," Phil said, ignoring Clint's absurd question. He should know better than to ask at this point. "We will discuss, as a group, how we are going to handle this situation."

"How we should handle this situation is by locking those creatures back up," Clint returned, getting to his feet and beginning to pace the room. "This isn't some op we can plan. This isn't a mission. We can't prepare for this. We're letting them in. We're just going to open the door and let them into SHIELD. Into the Avengers. This is insane."

"Tony has no intention of allowing any Skrull into this Tower or near the Avengers," Phil answered as calmly as he could. "As for SHIELD, that is no longer your concern."

Clint bit back his retort, opting instead to turn and face the window.

"He's right," Carol said, jerking her thumb in Clint's direction. "This is crazy. This is... The Skrulls spent years in that place, trying to make it work and now SHIELD is just going to break it all down for them? What else are they giving up? What exactly did they get in return? What'd they sell their soul for?"

"Carol," Phil started to say, but was quickly interrupted.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Clint yelled, wheeling back around and still far too angry to be having this conversation.

"It is my job to be calm," Phil said, the strain beginning to show. "And I am not aware of the particulars. I don't know what they want and I don't know if anything was exchanged in return for their cooperation."

"What do they want for ours?" Clint asked because he knew... he knew SHIELD and nothing was free. Nothing was ever for free.

"For the Avengers cooperation, SHIELD is willing to continue to provide diplomatic support."

Carol looked at Clint, but the other man was staring back at the ceiling, so instead her eyes found Phil.

It was a threat - the Council was threatening the Avengers. 

Play along or risk becoming vigilantes.

Clint mumbled something low and inaudible before storming out. As the door slammed, Phil crossed his arms and dropped his head, still standing in the center of the room.

"Sit down," Carol sighed, waving at the chair as she dropped her head into her hands.

"I should probably go."

"Why?" Carol asked. "I'm not mad at you, Bug. I know you didn't do this. I know you don't like it any more than we do. How long have you known?"

With a sigh, Phil sat down and checked his watch. "About eight hours now."

"Do you think if we'd told them everything -"

"Nothing we could have told them would have changed this," Phil interrupted. "They don't care what the Skrulls have done, only what they can do."

"Still."

"I told Director Fury," Phil said quietly, looking momentarily at his hands before raising his eyes back to meet hers. "It was all in my private report. No one else knows. I'm sorry, I was obligated... I should have asked you first. Given you the chance to tell him yourself but..."

"It's fine," Carol said, shaking her head. "He needed to know and I'd... I'd rather forget. If I could forget, I would, but I guess that's not something super-DNA does."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that."


	3. Chapter 3

Tony drummed his fingers on the table, his eyes alternating between the door and the clock.

Phil had told him they'd be there fifteen minutes ago but evidently telling Clint and Carol hadn't gone as smoothly as he'd planned.

Director Fury had already left, leaving Maria in his place to handle the situation. To Tony she looked as tense and tired as she had the last time they'd talked. That didn't bode well for him, or the fight he expected to get out of her once Tony insisted she move into the Tower. He'd already cornered Sitwell, who more or less agreed without too much fuss. Maria would be a different story and he didn't want to, but if he had to Tony wasn't above pressuring Steve to help him convince her that it would be the right thing to do. The safe thing to do.

Finally the elevator doors opened but to everyone's surprise it was Carol alone who stepped out.

She didn't hesitate, only nodded in Tony's direction before taking her seat at the table.

"Where's Agent Coulson?" Maria asked.

"He's on his way with Clint," Carol said. "He said to start without them if you hadn't already."

"Okay," Tony said as he got to his feet and motioned for Maria to join him at the front of the room. "You want to do the honors?"

Maria frowned at him briefly before turning to address the gathered group and laid out all of the changes of the past twenty-four hours. She was direct and detailed, and didn't gloss over the uglier bits and pieces. SHIELD was going to cooperate with the Skrulls for the time being and there wasn't any room for argument or compromise.

When she'd finished, the room went deathly still.

"What does this mean exactly?" Bruce asked, the first to find his voice and digest the information, if at least in part.

"The official breakdown hasn't come out yet," Maria answered, "but as far as the Tower and the Avengers goes, nothing has changed. The Skrulls have not requested and will not be permitted free access here."

"Are they going public?" Bobbi asked. "The world knows about alien life now so..."

"No," Maria said with a shake of her head. "As part of the agreement, their existence will not be made public. Do to their unique abilities, they have chosen to remain blended into society. The Council thinks that's best. No one who is not already cleared to know can be told. That's an order."

"That's going to be hard to do," Tony said, but he was addressing the room and not Maria directly. "I know it. I've already disobeyed that order," he said with a fleeting smile, gesturing towards Pepper.

"Her clearance is higher than yours," Maria sighed.

"Really?"

"Obviously," Maria returned dryly.

"Anyway," Tony said, moving on, "this is something we need to go along with. I know we all have loved ones and friends who aren't in the program and that not telling them will be tough. In general, if you feel you have to warn them, be vague. Be really vague. Terrorists. HYDRA. Mole men. I don't care what you tell them to put their guard up, but... do it. Just don't say Skrull. And, if you're concerned, bring them by. We have scanners running all over this building that will tell us who's who."

"We don't believe they are targeting civilians," Maria added.

"So who are they targeting?" Clint asked from the back of the room.

During Maria's speech Clint and Phil had arrived and, not wanting to interrupt, and stood quietly in the back of the room.

"Officially," Maria answered, straightening up as she spoke, "their goal is to prevent a Kree invasion. They consider Earth their home and want to protect it. What they really want... we don't know."

"They want revenge," Carol said shaking her head. "They're using SHIELD to get it."

"Revenge," Steve repeated back to her.

Carol sighed, shaking her head and seemingly regretting her outburst. "I can't prove that," she admitted. "It's not like they sat me down and told me their plans but... but they thought I was Kree and they hated me."

"They feared you," Clint said.

Carol turned and looked at him with surprise. 

"How do you figure?" Phil asked, also perplexed by his statement.

"They always approached Carol differently than they approached you or me," Clint said with a shrug. "We weren't a threat to them. They knew they could control us but with Carol, they were cautious. Twice as many guards. Half as many visits."

Carol tried hard not to look at Phil but did so unconsciously. The whole room was watching and she knew it, but it was an old habit by now. She looked at him, and he looked back.

Everyone seemed willing to ignore the look of intelligence that passed between them; everyone but Natasha.

"It's clearly possible that that is all they want," Tony said, hoping to move the conversation along. "They obviously have a grudge."

"How are we supposed to stay out of this?" Bruce asked.

"We're not," Tony admitted with a sigh. "We can't. We need to know what they're up. If the Kree are coming, we have to stop them. If they're not and this is some elaborate take-over scheme, then we'll have to stop that too."

"And if it's both?" Bruce persisted.

"I'm open to suggestions."

*****

The meeting took the entirety of the morning and broke up without any solid resolution beyond increasing security and vigilance.

Carol hung out for a moment or two, hoping to catch Phil alone but it was clear he had business with Maria and Tony to attend to first. Either that or he was ignoring her. 

He was probably ignoring her.

"Come on," Clint said. Walking with her to the elevators, as soon as they were alone he asked, "What do you think?"

"That everyone hopes I have some kind of magical insight on this and I don't. I don't even know how..." Carol said, shaking her head and trailing off with a near growl. "How am I supposed to know anything? I spent four years in a fucking glass box! No one tells me anything and..." 

"Normally, I'd agree," Clint admitted after she'd settled down. "They don't tell us shit but... I think this time they're giving us everything they have. They just don't have anything to give."

"It's not... It's not that. This is... this is a mess," she said, shaking her head. "It makes no sense and... What can we do?" she shrugged, realizing as they all did that they couldn't fight the Council. 

Clint scrutinized her for a moment before the realization dawned on him. Before he realized what she was really talking about.

"They won't show you the files?" Clint asked in shock, because he was surprised. He was sure Phil would have given Carol anything she'd asked for, especially anything she wanted to know about her accident. "I know how to get them," he immediately offered. "Hell, Tony has to have a copy stashed away..."

"No," Carol interrupted. "No, those... I've read those. I couldn't understand half of it but Bruce walked me through the hard parts. They don't... They're not enough. I've seen the files and it's just not enough."

"So, what do you want?"

"I want to see it."

"See what?" Clint asked with confusion. What was there to see? She'd been in a mid-air collision.

Carol stepped off the elevator onto the main, communal floor and cast about her. There were too many people to go over it here. Sensing the reason behind her sudden silence, Clint tapped her shoulder and led her down the hallway towards the roof access point.

"Helpful hint," he said as he pushed open the door. "No one comes up here. And it's JARVIS proof. So spill. What do you want to see?"

"Where it happened. The crash site."

"Why?" he asked. "No offense, but it's probably a hole in the ground overrun with vines by now."

"Phil pretty much said the same thing."

"So?" he persisted.

Carol sighed as she leaned against the nearest duct work. First she looked at her feet and then the sky and then, having no choice but to get on with it said, "I keep having these dreams."

"About the crash?"

"Yes."

"I thought you didn't remember the crash."

"I don't," Carol said. "The last thing I remember is the mission brief. Everything else... it's gone. I woke up in that cell and... that doesn't matter. I started having these dreams after we were set free. I can see this place and the explosion and there's something there. There is something there I need to see."

Clint rubbed his hands together, feeling uneasy. This was... this was not something he wanted to talk about. It was too close to his own experience with alien technology. His hands felt a little numb thinking about it. It wasn't what he expected to talk about at all. His stomach felt tight.. They knew enough about what had happened to Carol to know it was alien in origin. They knew it was Kree. And the way she sounded, it made it sound like this thing compelling her; it was calling her back.

He didn't like this at all. It was unnerving.

"You may be reading too much into your dreams," he said, finally finding his voice. "You didn't have them until you got out. After you found out what happened, it could be your mind is just filling in the gaps."

"You're right," she admitted, "but, I want to be certain."

"And Phil said no?"

"He said no."

"Did he say why?" Clint asked.

"He said now isn't a good time," Carol answered, although it clearly pained her to do so. "He thinks I should lay low and flying to the South Pacific and rummaging through an old SHIELD outpost that may or may not have anything useful in it would be the opposite of laying low. Now that the Skrulls are more or less a part of SHIELD, he doesn't want me to attract their attention."

Clint nodded. Phil had valid points. He always did, but clearly this was something Carol needed to do. She needed to see it, if only to prove to herself that there was nothing to see. 

He really hoped there was nothing to see.

"I know this all sounds crazy and stupid," Carol sighed. "And I know Phil is probably right. You're probably right. It's just some kind of manifestation of my subconscious because... because for four years I've had no control or say. I had no power in it. Maybe I just really need to see where it started to understand and accept that it's really happened. I don't know. It's stupid. I'll be... I'm fine. I am. Don't worry about it."

Clint shook his head and tried to keep from smiling too much, but Carol caught him.

"That's like the Avenger battle cry," he explained with a dry laugh. "I'm fine. We're fine. Nothing to see here."

Carol grinned back at him, understanding perfectly what he meant.

"I guess I'm just irritated that he was so dismissive."

Clint nodded, understanding that perfectly. Phil could shut down a conversation like no one else in the world. It was equal parts exasperating and impressive.

"Admit it. It was easier when he couldn't talk back."

"Maybe," Carol laughed. "Sometimes. Although his disapproving looks are just as effective."

"I only had your disapproving looks to go by," Clint said with a smirk. "All in all, they weren't so bad."

Carol shook her head and walked a few steps away, turning to face the city as the silence stretched out between them. 

He tried not to dwell on all the time they'd spent locked away. Clint had only been a little over four months in that place, but it had felt like so much longer. He had a hard time imagining what it had felt like to Phil or how long it must have seemed like for Carol.

If he'd had been alone in there he was certain he would have lost his mind.

It was an awful thing to be grateful for and something he knew he could never fully repay.

He could only try.

"So was Phil's big objection SHIELD's involvement?" he asked.

"Mostly," she answered, giving him a puzzled look in exchange. "Why?"

"What if we just don't tell them?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos! This one is kind of short. I'll make up for that later. Enjoy!

"You really don't care?"

Tony tilted his head to the side in an effort to get a clearer view at the machinery he was currently working on. Adjusting his lens, he welded the final piece in place before setting down his gear and giving Natasha his full attention.

"No," he answered indifferently. "I don't."

Natasha sighed heavily but it made no difference to Tony's demeanor.

"What about transparency?" she asked, attacking from a new angle as Tony set to work on something entirely new.

"What about it?"

"There is obviously something we're not being told."

"And you asked Phil already?" Tony returned, focused mainly on his work but his eyes occasionally darting up to meet her own. "Clint?"

"Yes."

"Have you asked Carol?"

"Phil and Clint are sticking to their story," Natasha said, deflecting the issue.

"Which means exactly what in spy talk?" Tony asked with a smirk. "That you don't think you'll get anything new out of her? You don't know her well enough to read her tells?" he continued to persist. "Are you losing your touch?"

Natasha didn't dignify his accusations with an answer. At least not a verbal one. If looks could kill, Tony knew he'd be dead.

"I just think it's odd," Natasha said plainly. "We've all seen what she can do."

"Up close, unfortunately," Tony added absentmindedly rubbing his chest, Carol had cracked one of his ribs pushing him into a wall.

"And you still don't think it's strange that with all that power she never managed to escape? That she never even tried? Not once, in four years?"

"That place was locked down tight."

"I'm not buying it," Natasha said with a simple shake of her head.

"I'm not selling it," Tony returned almost reflexively.

"Clint tried to escape," Natasha continued to press. "He took every opportunity available to get out of there."

"I'm not so sure that speaks well of your boyfriend's intelligence," he answered with a smile. "That place was a fortress built on nightmares."

"Phil even tried once."

"After Clint showed up," Tony pointed out. "I have asked, Natasha. I know the story."

As Phil told it, until he'd seen Clint, he had assumed the worst about Loki's Chautari led invasion. Using Carol as an intermediary, Clint and Phil had managed to get through the basics of that fight, but not much more. It was actually Clint's determined efforts to escape that drove Phil into action.

At least that was how he told it.

"You admit you think it's a story."

"I'm not admitting anything," Tony sighed, realizing this fight was a long time coming. The tension had been steadily growing, stemming from Natasha's dissatisfaction with the sequence of events as they'd been told to her and everyone else. "Listen, there was no way out. Pure and simple. Clint told you so himself. He only kept at it because he knew no one was looking for them. He saw Phil and knew everyone would assume he was dead, too. Phil and Carol didn't know that. They had no reason to think there wasn't a rescue in the works somewhere down the line."

Natasha got to her feet and stood over him, glowering down at Tony while he worked.

"I'm not saying there aren't holes," Tony finally did admit, leaning back in his chair to look her square in the eyes. "What do you want me to do about it?" he asked, stretching into a yawn.

"You've been elected leader, Tony. Lead."

"I think you're confusing leader with chief inquisitor. Or is that the same thing in Russian?"

"Why aren't you taking this seriously?"

"Because I'm probably in on it," Tony said with a laugh.

"Tony."

"Seriously, Tasha. Look at everything on my plate," he said, pushing his chair back and wheeling towards his main workstation. "Look at all this. I've got new equipment to field. Old equipment to fix. Upgrades for my suit, the team comms, the jet. I've got security features to test. Skrulls. Kree. SHIELD. Avengers. Not to mention my own projects that keep all of this afloat. I don't have time to worry about why my friends don't want to talk about their time in torture town. Okay?"

"You think they were tortured?"

"I know they were."

"Medical showed no signs --"

"Physically. No signs, physically," Tony interrupted as he got to his feet and walked around Natasha to a completely different workstation. "I hear what you're saying. I'm aware, okay? Things aren't exactly right and your instincts are not something I am willing to just ignore. Without you we'd all probably have been replaced with doppelgangers and sitting in our own glass cells wondering what the hell happened."

Natasha didn't say anything. Just continued to look at him as if disappointed.

Tony cast about the room for a moment, foolishly hoping an answer would somehow appear. He knew from experience that things didn't work that way. Productivity yielded results. 

He had to do something.

"I'll talk to Phil," he relented. "Will that make you happy?"

"No."

"Will anything I do make you happy?"

"It's doubtful," she said with a small shrug of her shoulders, "but it's a start."

"Well, I am at your service. Apparently," he tacked on sarcastically. "I'll talk to Phil and Clint. Carol if I need to. This is all probably nothing."

"I hope so."

*****

"That's rude," Darcy said as she slid into the seat opposite Carol. "Reading at the dinner table. It's rude." Carol held up her finger as if requesting silence for a moment longer. "That's also rude," Darcy informed her indifferently.

"Sorry," Carol said, marking her place as she set the book down in the empty chair beside her. "I have to get through it before someone spoils it for me."

"There's a TV show now," Darcy shrugged in-between bites of pasta. "You know that, right?"

"Yes," Carol said, maybe a little more seriously than the situation warranted. "I do. And I want to get through this before I start that."

"Priorities," Darcy said as if in agreement.

"I can't always tell if you're mocking me..."

"She's mocking you," Steve said, coming over and standing beside their table, plate in hand. "May I join you?"

Carol nodded, rearranging her plate and glass to make room. Darcy just laughed as she kicked out a chair for him to sit in.

For a few minutes it was awkward silence. Carol and Steve never spoke much, something he was trying to correct. He didn't know much, if anything, about her. And she didn't seem too inclined to reveal much, if anything, to him.

Darcy was quietly thrilled to be watching the attempt.

"So," Steve said after a few more bites, "what are you reading?"

"Nothing much," Carol returned, trying to shrug it off as unimportant.

"Just a dictionary," Darcy added.

"It's not..." Carol started to say, but that was clearly a lie. The book was huge.

"I haven't read much modern literature," Steve admitted, still determined to have some kind of conversation with Carol.

"Can't imagine you have a lot of spare time," Carol said without really looking up from her plate.

"Probably more than I should," he laughed. "I usually end up wasting time watching movies."

"The talkies fascinate him," Darcy said with a smirk.

"We had talking films when I grew up," Steve sighed, having clearly told Darcy the same thing many, many times before.

Again, there was silence. Awkward silence.

"I haven't seen you at the gym lately," Steve said, willing to try again to start any kind of discourse.

"I've been running at the park."

"With our new security measures --"

"I can handle myself," Carol interrupted.

Steve just nodded, pushing his food around the plate for a moment before continuing, "No one here thinks you can't. If they did, you wouldn't be here. It's just more important now that we all watch out for one another."

"If Tony wants me to check in and out of the Tower, I will," she returned, but the more she spoke the more emotionless her face became. "I understand the importance of protocol."

"It's not a rule."

"Then why bring it up?"

Steve looked like he was about to argue it with her, but instead let it slide. "Fair enough," he said, turning his eyes back to his own plate and focusing on finishing his dinner.

"This is fun," Darcy said before taking a sip of her soda. "We should do this every night."

Carol, having gone a little pink around her ears, soon after collected her things and left them with a simple, "Excuse me."

As she left, Bruce and Bobbi entered and not long after them Clint arrived, so they all sat down together with Darcy and Steve.

"So, Clint," Darcy began. "Tell us. Why does Carol hate Steve?"

Steve rolled his eyes when Clint looked at him with genuine surprise.

"She doesn't hate Steve," he answered. 

"Uh-huh," Darcy said almost dismissively. "That's what I thought. We'll have to go higher and ask Phil."

"Ask Phil all you want but she doesn't," Clint countered. "Why?"

"Because she does," Darcy answered.

"She was a little..." Steve started to say, but Darcy talked over him.

"Rude."

"Terse," he provided.

"It was rude," Darcy continued to insist, "but she doesn't have manners so..."

"Why don't you think she has manners?" Bruce asked, not really sure he wanted to know the answer. Carol was always polite enough to him. 

"She reads at the table."

"I read at the table," Clint said with a stony expression.

Darcy only pointed at him, as if that proved her point, and Bobbi laughed.

"I do, too," Bruce added.

"Still not helping," Darcy said with a shrug.

"She's probably having a bad night," Steve said, hoping to dismiss the topic.

"Probably," Bruce agreed.

"And Bruce's manners are passable," Bobbi said with a smile. "Barton however..."

"Wasn't a lot of opportunity for me to practice the social graces growing up," Clint said with faux-sincerity. "Sorry about that. I try and make do."

"We all have to sometimes," Bobbi agreed, with a hint of a smile. "For example, I didn't get into Emory and had to go to Georgia Tech. You've got to work with what you've got."

For a moment there was another bout of absolute silence as Clint dropped his face into his hands as if unable to stand it a moment longer.

But to everyone's surprise, he wasn't angry. He was trying not to laugh, and failing.

Once he couldn't stop himself and Clint started really laughing, they all did. Bobbi included. She obviously knew she was being ridiculous and was rather pleased with the outcome. Steve was too. They all needed a laugh. Especially after today.

"Yes, Morse," Clint said, still unable to keep a straight face. Laughter permeating his words. "That's exactly the same. Me growing up dirt poor is just like you not getting into your first choice of colleges. Exactly."


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days were hectic around the Tower. Tony wasn't kidding when he had told Natasha his plate was full. 

Luckily, he had help. 

Clint mapped every inch of ductwork inside the building, double checking all of the sensors in place and adding several more. Bruce, with JARVIS's assistance, ran all of the diagnostics, ensuring the correct security systems were fully operational. Carol helped where she could, but ultimately ended up being the most useful by ghostwriting several press releases for Pepper concerning Stark Industries and the Avengers.

Natasha and Bobbi were temporarily recalled to HQ to be briefed on their new mission parameters, but returned as if nothing had changed because Phil had seen to it that nothing had changed. 

While all of this was happening, Tony had enlisted Steve to go with to all of the meetings Maria and Fury had arranged with the upper echelons of SHIELD. They were mostly formality, if not a series of long and boring ones.

Because of everything it took several days for Tony to do anything about the situation Natasha had brought to his attention. And even when he did finally have the time, it took a few more to decide exactly how to approach it.

As usual, he decided to go all in.

"Pepper said you needed to see me," Phil said as he walked into Tony's workshop. He has off duty, having already taken off his suit jacket and tie.

Tony smiled and moved around the table to greet him. Clint had already arrived, having agreed to help Tony test some of the new upgrades. They'd been at work for the past few hours but as soon as Phil saw him, he frowned.

"You've been avoiding my calls."

"I've been busy," Clint answered a little put off, because that should have been obvious.

"Problem?" Tony asked, standing between the two of them not quite understanding what was going on.

"Barton still hasn't cleared psych," Phil answered, still staring at Clint expectantly.

"I'm not a part of SHIELD anymore," Clint said definitely. "They can't tell me what to do."

"As the operations liaison, I can."

"Sir," Clint said, shaking his head. It was as close to a plea as he was likely to get.

"Is it really that big of a deal?" Tony asked. He understood why Clint thought it was unnecessary. The way Clint had always explained it, the appointment was fairly routine. It only seemed to be an issue now that Phil was back in charge.

"It's not," Clint answered.

Phil shook his head and turned his attention to Tony, finding it much easier to ignore Clint for the time being.

"He hasn't passed psych since the Battle of New York," Phil informed him, causing even Tony to look at Clint in surprise. "I'm starting to think he quit SHIELD to avoid that appointment."

"Really?" Tony asked, facing Clint and waiting for a response.

"I did the initial," Clint said, still trying to pass the whole thing off as unimportant. "That's all that's required."

"No, it's not," Phil argued. "Not when they request additional time. Honestly, you're lucky Maria let this slide."

"Hill let something slide?" Tony asked, aware that he was losing control of the situation but also that it might be for the best.

If they were fighting each other, they would be paying less attention to him and his true intention of gathering them all together.

"You are going to this appointment," Phil continued.

"Sir," Clint said, and this time it was a plea.

"You are going," Phil answered, shaking his head for emphasis. "Tomorrow."

"Hey," Carol said, dragging the word out and looking at each of them as if acutely aware she'd interrupted something.

"Good," Tony said happily, waving her further into the room. "You're here. I've been working on some equipment for you. Phil, I thought you might want to go over it with us."

"I'll just --" Clint started to say, heading for the exit.

"Sit," Phil snapped, pointing at a chair for emphasis. "We're not done." After Clint reluctantly took to his appointed stool, Phil turned his attention back to Tony and Carol. "What have you got?"

"I have to learn how to do that," Tony said with a slight grin and a nod in Clint's direction.

"Never going to happen," Clint said in a low voice.

"Anyway," Tony continued, motioning for Carol and Phil to follow him further into the workshop. "Called in a favor or two and turned up with this," he explained as he held up a bolt of white fabric. "Been testing it and, well, go ahead. Light it up."

Carol gave him a quizzical look before taking the fabric in her hands. Clenching it tight, her hands began to glow, brighter and brighter, but to her surprise, the fabric remained unchanged.

"It's fire resistant," Tony explained. "Stretchy. Breathes nice, if you like that kind of thing. Give me an idea of what you want and we can line it, make it bullet proof. Make you a proper suit so you don't have to keep using SHIELD's hand-me-downs. Should be plenty left over to make Bruce some tights of his own for the other guy."

"It's great," Carol said, handing it back to Tony.

"Where'd you find this?" Phil asked.

"Reed."

"Of course," Phil said with a nod. 

"Thanks, Tony," Carol added.

"We're not done yet," he returned with a grin as he retrieved a sliver metallic collar. "I was thinking about the comms problems we've had with you." Carol's unique powers tended to short out SHIELD's, and the Avengers', typical communication methods. "So, when I was working on Barton's gear, I thought up this. It's still a prototype, but it's wired to go."

"How does this work?" Carol asked, turning it over in her hands and a little confused.

"What's wrong with your gear?" Phil asked as he turned to where Clint was still dutifully sitting where he'd been told.

"Just needed an adjustment," Tony answered for him as he helped Carol snap the collar in place. "It goes on like this," he explained to her, ignoring the fact that Phil was still staring back at Barton; setting the collar correctly at the base of Carol's neck. "Okay, so we can fine tune this later. Change the color to match the suit... whatever. I was thinking you might want it voice activated. It isn't too heavy, is it?"

"No, it's fine but..." 

"Good," Tony said, reaching around her neck and pressing the clasp in further on the collar.

As he did so, Carol felt the collar expand, moving up and covering her neck, the lower half of her jaw, ending at her chin, continuing up and leaving her nose and mouth exposed, but covering her eyes and ears and ending at her hairline. She could see perfectly through the cowl, and hear as well, but it was a strange experience.

"I can fix it up with whatever programs you want," Tony said still grinning at the effect. "I already loaded it with night vision and some minor tracking systems. What do you think?" he asked, motioning her towards a nearby mirror.

Carol looked but hardly recognized herself.

"This is... this is incredible, Tony," she laughed, shaking her head and still not quite believing it. "Thank you. Again. Thank you."

"It's nothing," he said dismissing the praise almost out of habit as he moved to retract the mask for her. "It's what I do. By the way, the collar also acts as a rudimentary comm link. You should be able to hear us and vice versa while you wear it."

"Thank you," she repeated sincerely. Carol had only lived in the Tower a short time, but she knew how busy Tony was and how much time and effort he'd likely had to put in to it.

"Anything for Captain Amazing."

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head and looking at Phil who, despite his previous bad mood, couldn't keep from smiling. "That was a joke. A private joke," she added with emphasis, "I was clearly joking when I suggested that name."

"Oh, that's right," Tony said with a nod as he escorted the two of them back over to where Clint was still seated. "It's Major Amazing, isn't it?"

"Why stop at Major," Clint said with a smile. "Why not General? General Electric."

"I am not answering to that," Carol returned with a laugh.

"Lieutenant Lightning?" Tony suggested.

"Now you've demoted her," Clint retorted. "She won't like that."

"No, I don't," Carol agreed.

Phil shook his head as he checked his watch. It was getting late and they'd all had long days. Plus, he'd likely spend the entire night babysitting Clint to ensure he went to his rescheduled appointment. There was no way Phil was going to let him get out of this one. 

"Is that all?" Phil asked and Tony nodded, moving back to his workbench as the three of them began to head for the exit.

"Oh, wait," Tony called out before they left. "Since I have the three of you here, I thought it would be good to know a little more about the security in those cells you were held in," he said as casually as he could. "It might be good information to have and, you know, something we could use."

Tony gave each of them a brief look, trying to gauge their reactions. 

Phil looked completely nonplussed. Carol was clearly uncomfortable. And Clint stood there, eyes narrowed with a smirk on his lips... Clint was already on to him.

"Everything is in the report," Phil answered, still completely at ease.

"Nothing you wanted to add?" Tony pressed.

Phil shrugged indifferently, glancing at Carol and Clint as if to see if they had any input on the situation. Predictably, they did not.

"Okay," Tony said with a grin and a sinking sensation in this stomach. "I'll give it another glance and... thanks anyway."

Phil nodded again and ushered Carol out the door first. Clint trailed after them, but not after giving Tony another look. A look that clearly showed he not only knew what he was up to, but who put him up to it.

No doubt Natasha had already approached Clint on the subject.

And, unfortunately, she had been right.

They were lying.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for comments and kudos and reading and everything! I'm sorry if the updates aren't as frequent as I'd like them to be. I'm still working this one out -- although I have a plan! Please be patient with me and enjoy!

The next morning Clint, accompanied by Phil, sat through an hour long session with the head of SHIELD's psychiatrics department. 

It was a waste of all of their time.

Clint knew what they would ask and what they wanted to hear. His answers were as brief as he could make them without being either rude or accommodating. He hated it, he hated Phil a little for making him sit through it, and vowed never to return.

Phil didn't actually sit in on the appointment, but guessed well enough how it had gone. As soon as the doors opened again, Clint bolted for the lobby and the doctor sighed and shook her head at Phil.

"Thank you," Phil offered.

"Good luck," came the reply.

The ride back to the Tower was uncomfortably quiet. Phil drove and Clint stared out the passenger's window, tapping his fingers against his knees.

"Let's get lunch," Phil said, taking a sudden turn in the opposite direction of the Tower.

"Why not just buy me an ice cream cone," Clint muttered. "The caseworkers used to do that after they asked me a bunch of bullshit, invasive questions. Do you feel safe at home? Where did the bad man touch you? If you tell us, you'll feel better. Why are you stopping here?" he asked, looking surprised to find them stopping at a nearby park.

"You said you wanted an ice cream," Phil answered, getting out of the car and waiting on the sidewalk for Clint to join him.

Clint rolled his eyes before joining him. Part of him knowing he was getting what he deserved for being a smartass. Phil knew Clint didn't really like sweets, of any sort, it was side effect of growing up surrounded by all-you-can-eat junk food at the circus. And, he'd been serious about the caseworkers. Early on Clint began to associate dessert with uncomfortable situations.

Maybe ice cream wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Having bought their cones, Phil sat down at the nearest bench and Clint reluctantly followed suit. For a few minutes, it was nice. Peaceful even, or as peaceful as New York could be in the middle of the day.

"You have to level with me, Clint," Phil finally said. "What's really going on?"

"I am just having a really bad year," he answered truthfully. 

"I don't believe that's the only problem."

"Well, I'm sorry if you don't believe me."

"Clint," Phil said, shaking his head and uncertain how to continue. It had taken years of building trust for the two of them to get to this point in their relationship and now it was unraveling. "Is this about your brother?" he had to ask. It was the only reason he had left. Phil hadn't wanted to lie about Barney, but telling Clint at the time hadn't been possible.

"I told you," Clint sighed, "I get it. I know why you didn't tell me. I'm not happy about it, but I understand."

"Is this about New York?" Phil continued to push, because this had to be resolved. "Is this about what happened with Loki?"

Clint began to fidget. In an attempt to cover his tell, he got to his feet and discarded the half-eaten ice cream cone into a nearby trash can. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he sat back down again and shook his head. They were probably the only two people in the park eating ice cream. It was ridiculous this late in the year. 

The whole conversation was ridiculous in Clint's mind.

But Phil didn't see it that way.

Given nothing else to go off of, Phil had to assume that Clint's continuing attitude problem stemmed from New York and the loss of control over himself and situation. For long periods of his life, the only control Clint had was over his own self, his own reactions to circumstances he had no power in. To lose, even temporarily, that last outpost had to have been devastating.

Phil wished he could have been there for Clint in the aftermath.

"I'm not going to go over this with you, Phil," Clint said with a firm tone. "I've had to talk about it with Hill and Tasha. Tony. Pepper. I'm not going over it again. I'm not."

But Phil hadn't been there and now...

"I'm not saying it was easy," Clint continued. "I'm not saying I don't still think about it," he admitted. "I'm just saying there is nothing anyone can do about it, me included, so... so I'd like to just move on."

"Okay," Phil agreed.

"And I'd like to get back to work," Clint added.

"I'll change your status as soon as we get back to the Tower."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Phil said, still uneasy about it, but feeling to push the other man further would be futile. Clint wasn't going to budge and he wasn't going to accept help.

They were going to have to watch him crash.

"That was a lot easier than I thought it would be."

"I don't know what to do for you, Clint," Phil said with a shrug. 

"Well, maybe worry less about me and more about Natasha," Clint suggested, back on his feet as the two of them headed for the car.

"Why's that?"

"Because she thinks you and Carol are lying," Clint answered as he opened the door and slid into the passenger's seat. Phil hesitated for a moment before joining him and starting the vehicle back up. "Tony does, too," he added as if indifferent. "Tasha hasn't stopped talking about how, given Carol's abilities, she should have busted her way out of that cell years ago. I wasn't doing anything about it, so she went to Tony. And now they both think you're covering for her for some reason."

"And?"

"You are," Clint answered. "Carol could have gotten free, but she didn't."

"And you want to know why," Phil stated.

"No," Clint answered truthfully. "I don't care. You don't think we need to know, so I don't need to know."

Phil smiled, understanding what Clint was getting at. Clint would trust him with whatever secrets he wanted to keep, but he expected Phil to do the same. Even if that meant not being in on said secrets.

"Just a friendly word of caution," Clint said with a slight smile of his own before letting the subject drop.

The rest of the ride was quiet and Clint knew that he could waste no time. He may have diverted Phil for the time being, sent him off chasing after Tony and Natasha, but it wouldn't last long. Eventually Phil would start to question what was really wrong with Clint, but hopefully not before Clint had helped Carol do what she needed to get done.

And hopefully not before Clint could set himself right.

He wanted to believe there wasn't a part of him that really needed to be fixed, but with each passing day the steady, low buzz in the back of his head said otherwise.

It was nothing. It had to be nothing. It would go away eventually.

Clint's first course of action wasn't to find Carol, but to head back to his room. Before they enlisted anyone else's help in their covert mission, they needed a different kind of accomplice.

"JARVIS?" Clint called out, as soon as he was alone.

_"Mr. Barton, I would like you to be aware that I am breaking protocol to be here,"_ the AI said over the intercom. _"Your protocol to be exact."_

"Yeah," Clint said, looking up at the ceiling out of habit, "I didn't think you'd mind."

_"There are exceptions to every rule and I do not mind if you do not."_

"Good," Clint returned, "because I'm going to need a favor."

_"A favor, sir?"_

"I'm going to tell you something, but you can't tell anyone else. Not yet. Can you do that?"

_"I am unsure,"_ JARVIS said after a lengthy pause. _"I would first need to know what that something was."_

"I can't tell you until you promise," he said and then waited. Clint stared at the ceiling waiting for an answer, half convinced that JARVIS had already alerted Tony and that he would burst through the door at any moment.

_"I promise,"_ JARVIS finally said.

"Thank you," Clint said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Carol and I are working on a mission that needs to be kept secret. I know Tony reviews the feeds and I really need to talk to Bruce alone in the lab."

_"Might I suggest then that you convene on the rooftop?"_

"Because I can't keep dragging everyone up there every time I want to talk in private. It would look suspicious. I just need two things. One: I need to be able to mute the lab feed when we discuss our plans. Not often, we'll meet in our rooms, too, but every once in awhile."

_"And the second thing?"_

"And two: when we go out on the mission, I need you to override protocol and not tell anyone we've taken the jet."

_"That is highly irregular."_

"I know it is."

_"I am uncertain I can comply."_

"You promised."

_"I did,"_ JARVIS agreed, _"but higher protocol dictates that I must inform Mr. Stark. When any override procedure is indicated, I am required to make a notification."_

"Then do me a favor and delay that notification."

_"Am I not already doing you a favor?"_

"Yes," Clint said, sorry to have gotten drawn into this.

_"Taking the jet without authorization constitutes theft."_

"I'm just going to borrow it."

_"All right, sir,"_ JARVIS returned. _"I will delay notification of override notification, when the time comes. How long would you ask me to wait?"_

"Four hours?"

_"One."_

"Three."

_"Two hours, thirty minutes."_

"Two hours," Clint said, shaking his head. He was negotiating with a computer. This is what his life was now.

_"Two hours,"_ JARVIS agreed.

"Thank you."

_"You are quite welcome, sir. Would you like me to leave now or do you have more favors to ask?"_

"Nope," Clint said. "That's everything."

_"Very well, sir."_

With that done, Clint went in search of Carol. She wasn't hard to find, as she only hung out in two places in the Tower: her room or the gym. Catching Bruce alone in the lab wouldn't be as easy, but they were in luck. When they arrived Jane had just left for lunch and Bobbi had been called away to HQ.

Bruce, having grown used to people coming in and out of his work center, hardly blinked an eyelash at their entrance. Just threw them both a friendly smile and finished up his latest entry.

"Does Tony have a new program he needs us to run?" Bruce asked, assuming that was the case.

"Um, no," Clint said, looking up at the ceiling to where one of JARVIS's many sensors was located. "Now, okay?"

_"Yes, Mr. Barton."_

"What's going on?" Bruce asked, stepping out from around his desk and looking concerned.

"We need your help," Clint said. 

"With what?" Bruce returned. The only hesitation he showed was a quick flick of his eyes upward.

Clint paused, not certain how to explain it all, and looked to Carol to provide the details.

"I want to go back to the crash site," Carol said simply.

"Your accident?"

"Yes," she answered. "I need to see where it started."

"That's understandable," Bruce said slowly, "but shouldn't you be taking this request to SHIELD? Technically, it's their outpost and their property now."

"Not legally," Clint said which Bruce acknowledged with a slight nod.

"I did take my request to SHIELD and they said no," Carol answered.

"Phil said no," Bruce clarified, certain that was the case, "and then you went to Clint."

"She told me what happened and I offered to help," Clint said.

"There has to be something there that SHIELD is hiding," Carol insisted. "Phil doesn't want me drawing attention to myself, or the rest of the team, not now. Not with the Skrulls working so closely with SHIELD but... but if there is something there, I don't think we can afford to let them get to it first. We know what has changed about me, we know that something altered my DNA, but we don't know what actually created this change."

"We've always assumed it was a side-effect of the Sentry explosion," Bruce admitted, starting to understand her point.

"But we ripped three apart up north and nothing happened," Carol said.

"Okay, it sounds like it's worth a look," Bruce agreed. "They may have stored parts and pieces of the original Sentry there. But why come to me?"

"You're the technical-science guy," Clint answered with a grin.

"I think Tony is actually that guy," Bruce countered good-naturedly.

"He's also our leader," Clint said, having already worked out this argument in his head. "If SHIELD finds out what we've done, and they find out he knew, well..."

"Plausible deniability," Bruce said with a nod.

"And this way it isn't officially an Avenger mission," Carol said knowing it was a weak technicality at best, but all they had. 

"That makes sense," Bruce said, slow to agree but willing to see it their way. "So why not Steve? Are you worried he'd tell Maria?"

"No," Clint answered, feeling very strongly that Steve wouldn't. "I just..." he stopped and sighed, because this part was harder to admit. "I don't want to put him in a position where he'd have to keep something from Hill."

Bruce looked his surprise. He knew Clint respected Steve, and considered him a friend, but he'd never been overly concerned with Maria's feelings. 

And then it dawned on him why Clint might be taking Steve and Maria's relationship into account.

"You're not telling Tasha," Bruce stated.

"You should," Carol said in a quiet voice, sounding very much like they'd had this argument before.

"I haven't decided," Clint said sounding very much as if he had.

"You should," Bruce said, echoing Carol's advice. "She won't divulge your plans if you ask her not to."

"She absolutely will tell on me if she feels justified," Clint said, shaking his head. "If I tell her and she's not onboard, this whole thing is over."

"You know her best," Bruce relented, "but I think we'll need someone in SHIELD to do this properly. It's a SHIELD outpost. They'll have security."

"I was a part of SHIELD," Clint said as if settling the matter.

"That was over a year ago and you've died in the interim," Bruce said. "I think the access codes might have changed since then. Natasha would be useful."

"Do you think Morse would go along with this?" Clint asked.

"I think you really don't want to tell Natasha," Bruce countered. "And that's not giving me a good feeling."

"I know she doesn't like me," Carol sighed. "You can stop tiptoeing around it."

"She doesn't have to like you to want to help," Bruce said, hoping to do Natasha justice. He had to believe it was more than that for Clint to be so hesitant to involve her. As far as he could see, if they really were going to do this, Natasha would be the ideal person to get it done.

"It's not that she doesn't like you," Clint said after a long pause.

"She doesn't trust me," Carol guessed and she knew why.

"She doesn't trust easily," Bruce added.

"No," Clint agreed. "She does not."

"So, how can I fix it?" Carol asked. 

"You don't," Clint said firmly.

He didn't want to involve Natasha. 

They would have to find another way.


	7. Chapter 7

"We've been over this," Maria said as she continued to cut up her food with seeming indifference. "I'm not moving into the Tower."

"I'm only offering to be nice," Tony said, shrugging off her refusal as he raised his glass. "I really don't know where else you'd find rent-free luxury like Stark Tower but... to each his own. Or her own," he smiled.

"Okay then," Pepper said, hoping to move on. They'd been having a nice dinner, out for a change, and she didn't want to see it ruined.

They had been over this before, at length, but Maria wasn't budging. Pepper imagined Tony thought that getting her away from work, out to dinner on a double date, would help his position, but clearly it had not. Steve had adamantly refused to even try and persuade Maria against her inclination. And Tony might think she was being over scrupulous, but it was Maria's decision to make, not his.

But he didn't have to agree with it.

"It makes more sense," Tony continued, and as soon as he spoke Maria set down her cutlery, Pepper put her wine glass back on the table, and Steve rolled his eyes. "It does. It makes a lot more sense for all of us to be living in one central location. It's more secure."

"I'm a big girl, Stark," Maria interjected. "I can take care of myself."

"I'm sorry, whose apartment was already broken into once before?" Tony countered. 

"I handled that," Maria said shortly, no longer even pretending to be nice. 

"I'm just saying, you wouldn't have to have handled that alone had you been..."

"...safely locked up in the Tower?" Maria finished for him. "The same Tower that, despite all your high tech security, has been breached."

"I've made several upgrades since then."

"I would hope so," Maria said sweetly, as she resumed eating.

"Okay then," Pepper repeated, a little louder than the last time as she turned her attention to Steve.

Taking the hint, Steve cleared his throat. "Pepper," he began, "how are the plans coming for your charity auction?"

"Excellent," she smiled. "Thank you for asking. It's next Friday --"

"Is it just appearances your worried about?" Tony interrupted, apologizing quickly to Pepper before honing back in on Maria. "Because no one cares that you and Steve are, in fact, you and Steve. No one."

"I do not need to give you a reason why I am saying no," Maria said sharply, her voice just loud enough to gain the attention of the tables nearest their own.

"That's..." Tony started to say, before stopping and shaking his head. "No, I'm really going to need a reason."

"You are the reason," Maria said as she glared at him.

"That's not good enough," he shrugged. "We can't risk it. SHIELD might be okay with you putting yourself in harm's way, but the Avengers can't be. Maria, it's not necessary."

"Tony, I appreciate what you are saying," Maria said after a lengthy pause as she tried to keep in mind what Steve had said many times before. Tony wasn't trying to push her buttons, he was just acting out because the situation seemed out of control. More specifically, out of his control. "I know that this is all coming from a place of concern but my position in SHIELD encompasses more than just the Avengers. Living at the Tower would constitute favoritism.

"We're not your favorites?"

"I don't play favorites."

"You're a target."

"I'm also a person who would like to live her life," Maria countered.

Tony looked first at Pepper and then at Steve. Tony had to believe that Steve was worried. He had to be worried, but it was obvious that the other man wasn't going to speak out against Maria's wishes. If Tony was this concerned, surely Steve was as well, and he hoped that he would at least talk to her in private if he would not in public. This whole affair had Tony very concerned and if it was physically possible, he would lock up all his friends and loved ones in a box to keep them safe.

He really wanted nothing more than to keep them safe.

It was an impossible task.

"At least let me install some additional security," Tony said with a sigh of defeat.

"That would be nice," Maria agreed, glad to have reached some kind of consensus. "Thank you."

"All right," Tony said, raising his glass again and surprised to find it empty. "Let's get another round and toast. What should we drink to?"

"Excuse me," a young woman said having approached their table while evidently on her way out of the restaurant. "I'm sorry to bother you, but... Do you think I could have your autograph?"

Tony straightened up in his chair and with a smile set to sign whatever it was with good grace, but before he could reach out, the woman thrust a pen and paper at Steve instead.

Steve, looking baffled and embarrassed, smiled as he signed the paper. And before they knew it, the woman whipped out her cell phone and took a picture and was gone.

"Well," Tony said, as if affronted.

"That never happens," Steve uttered, shaking his head, still confused by the entire encounter. "I mean, not like that. At events, yeah, but..."

"They probably saw me and put two and two together," Tony said, shrugging it off. "Isn't that right, Pep?"

When the two of them turned back to Pepper and Maria, neither woman was paying them any attention. Both were on their phones with serious expressions.

"Everything okay?" Steve asked, but Maria only shook her head in response.

"Miss," Pepper said, stopping the nearest waitress. "Can we have our check, please? Thank you."

"What's going on?" Tony asked.

"We need to get back to the Tower," Maria said, her face having gone white.

Tony didn't argue, not this time, because he knew that look. He recognized the one on Pepper's face as well, having been the cause of it many, many times before. Maria's was the same.

They were so pissed.

As best as they could in-between texts and calls, Maria and Pepper explained the situation.

In the lobby to greet them was Bobbi, shaking her head and looking upset.

"Bruce left," she said.

"Why didn't you stop him?" Tony asked, looking back out the doors with concern.

"He was already angry," Bobbi answered. "I didn't think confronting him was such a great idea."

"She's right," Steve agreed without lifting his eyes from Pepper's phone. 

He was still reading the full release.

SHIELD had issued a press release divulging all of the information it had about the Avengers. That is to say they released all of the information about the Avengers who were not still in SHIELD. Natasha and Bobbi were simply mentioned as liaisons, and even then only as Black Widow and Mockingbird. The rest of the team had been offered up with full disclosure.

And already, what information SHIELD hadn't released, news outlets and bloggers alike were finding on their own.

"Which way did he go?" Tony asked. 

Wasting no time, Bobbi motioned for Tony to follow her as she gave him a general idea of where Bruce had gone and how long it had been since he had left.

When she returned to the lobby, Maria was already on her phone, yelling at someone on the other end. Getting nowhere, she hung up and turned her attention back to Bobbi.

"How are Barton and Danvers?"

"Better," Bobbi said, shaking her head. "The first concern was Bruce, honestly. The local news already dug up a bunch of information on him and Dr. Ross. And um..." she hemmed, looking at Pepper and blushing as they all got into the elevator, "they've already ran those pictures from last year in LA."

"What..." Pepper started to ask before recollecting. "Clint and I. Oh good," she said dryly. "That will be fun to rehash."

"That will honestly be the least of our problems with Barton," Bobbi said darkly.

"His record was purged," Maria answered firmly, hoping that was really true.

"I've got to call our lawyer," Pepper sighed, thanking Steve as he handed her back the phone.

"Why do you need a lawyer?" he asked.

"Trust me," Pepper said. "It's best to just try and stay ahead of this. There are going to be all kinds of claims and accusations now that all of your names are out there. My money is on at least three paternity suits by midnight. Then there's going to be a dozen or more long lost relatives looking to cash in."

"Any idea why they did this?" Bobbi asked as they all stepped off the elevator and headed for the communal living room.

"I have a guess," Maria answered.

Phil looked up when they entered the room, met her eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

"Hey," Clint said from where he sat on the couch next to Natasha. "Now it's a party. You're just in time for my mug shot," he finished, pointing at the television.

Maria's eyes went momentarily wide as Steve moved around her to take a seat on the nearest ottoman. But as soon as she saw the picture, as soon as Phil shook his head again, she relaxed.

It wasn't Barton at twenty-four, caught and detained for murder and robbery before being whisked away by SHIELD. It was Barton at sixteen, skinny and almost unrecognizable, arrested for shoplifting.

Natasha leaned in close and whispered in Clint's ear, causing him to laugh and all Maria could think was 'thank goodness'. The last thing she needed to deal with was an irate Barton.

"Any word from Director Fury?" Phil asked after crossing the room to stand beside Maria.

"None," she answered, checking her communicator again. "Did you know about this?"

"I was already here when it came out," he answered and for a moment it was quite as everyone was still watching the television in a state of surreal confusion. "What do you think?"

"That it's a warning," Maria answered. "A preemptive strike to keep them in line."

Phil nodded in agreement.

"We're back," Tony said as he got off the elevator with Bruce in tow. Tony looked just the same as he always did, but Bruce was still on edge. "No meltdowns. No emergency. Everything is fine. I've called security."

"Security?" Steve asked.

"Nothing big," Tony shrugged. "Just a few cameras in the lobby."

"Holy shit," Darcy exclaimed, flipping to the external feed and gawking at the people gathered around the Tower. "Look! My fifteen minutes of fame are here," she said as her name and picture showed up onscreen.

No sooner than she said it than her phone beeped, indicating a text. Her exuberant smile faded a little as she read it. 

"What's wrong?" Jane asked.

"My dads are freaking out," Darcy answered softly and was quieter still as she got up and left the room to call them.

Jane's phone beeped next which she ignored. Her fifteen minutes, as Darcy put it, had happened earlier.

"There are reporters outside my parents' house," Carol said as she read a text message from her youngest brother.

Phil and Maria exchanged another pained glance.

"I'll get SHIELD on that," Maria finally said, before turning to Pepper. "You'll need to issue a release."

"At this point it's for the best," Phil added, hating to tax the other woman more, but it was true.

Pepper looked at Tony who shrugged. She had been acting as the de facto press secretary for the group, but only in a very limited fashion. The Avengers hadn't needed to say much to the media before this moment. She already had a full time job. It was unfair to ask her to take on another.

"Okay," Tony said through a huff of breath, "Carol. You're our new press secretary. We need to release a short statement confirming only the information SHIELD has released and nothing more."

Carol got to her feet but didn't object. "That's going to invite a lot more questions," she said, and Tony acknowledged her with a short nod.

"I know," he agreed, "which is why Steve is going to be our spokesperson. We'll hold a brief press conference tomorrow morning in the lobby and -"

"Whoa, wait," Steve said. "What? Why?"

"Why a press conference or why you?"

"Both," Steve answered, his arms folded over his chest.

"We need to say something," Tony answered. "We need to make it seem like it isn't a big deal and then once you've said a lot of pretty words, ask the public for privacy. Let them know we just want to do our jobs. That's it."

"That sounds reasonable," Steve admitted, "but why me?"

"Well, to start with, you are Captain America."

"And you are the leader of the Avengers," Steve argued.

"That's not how the public sees it," Tony said, shrugging off his answer. "Listen, you are the best choice. You've got the reputation. The image. You speak well in public and don't get stage fright."

"Any one of us could do this."

"No," Tony said with a firm shake of his head.

"Yes," Steve insisted.

"No, really, we can't," Tony said, holding firm to his position. "Let me give you an example of what I'm talking about. Let's role play. We're at the press conference, it's over and it's gone well. Everything is fine and then, as you do, you take a few questions. Mr. Barton," he said, turning to Clint who sat up straighter and waited for Tony to continue, "big fan. Love you. Love your work. Our readers really want to know, who's in charge of the Avengers?"

"No one," Clint answered on instinct.

"Wrong answer," Tony smiled. "Thank you. Dr. Banner," he moved on, wheeling on Bruce who was still silently fuming in the corner. "Who is in charge of the Avengers?"

"I don't... um," Bruce stammered, as he fidgeted uncomfortably against the wall. "Does it matter?"

"It does," Tony said with a kind smile. "Ms. Danvers, what do you think? Who runs this operation?"

"That information is on a need to know basis."

"But the public wants to know, and if we don't say something, they'll make it up," Tony returned. "Nice try," he tacked on before turning back to where he started. "Steve. Mr. Rogers. Captain America. Who is in charge of the Avengers?"

"The Avengers are an independent organization that works together as a team. We support SHIELD, when called on, and come to the assistance of any nation that asks."

"Perfect," Tony said adding a few claps for good measure. 

"What would you have said?" Maria asked.

"Yes, Mr. Stark," Phil said, quietly impressed by his maneuvering. "Who is in charge of the Avengers?"

"Who's in charge?" Tony repeated with a grin. "Me, of course." 

"Which is why Tony should never be given an open mic," Pepper said with fondness.

"When you put it that way," Steve relented and the matter was closed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I've been very busy with the school year starting, one child down with a broken foot and everything generally happening all at once. Hopefully I'll get back on track here and soon. In the meantime, here's another chapter! Enjoy!

They'd hashed out the details of Carol taking over all the press releases for the Avengers in an official capacity. They made all the necessary arrangements for Steve to make a brief statement in the morning in the lobby of the Tower. Maria worked out security for their respective families. Everyone tried to settle into the idea of this newer, more evasive level of fame as best as possible that night, but no one was happy.

Five minutes after arriving in his room, Clint heard a knock on his door.

"Since when do you knock?" he asked Natasha, leaning into the frame of the door with a lopsided grin.

"You're mad at me," she stated with her arms folded across her chest.

"I'm not mad," he argued. "I just don't see why you had to take that nonsense to Tony."

"It's not nonsense."

"Whatever," he dismissed with easy apathy.

"Is that why you told Phil?" she questioned, her eyebrow raised.

"Seemed the fair thing to do."

"And you're all about fair play," she said, moving into his personal space. Close enough for her arm just to graze his. Close enough that with another step she'd be pressed all the way against him.

"I like an even playing field." As he said it, he dipped his head lower.

"I didn't realize we were in competition."

"Aren't we always?" he asked quietly.

Natasha placed one hand on the side of his face and tipped his head towards her own. She kissed him lightly, letting her lips linger over his for half a breath before taking a step back. She smiled, but it was sad.

Clint's hands slid around her waist, tugging Natasha into his arms. He planted a kiss on her forehead before locking eyes with her.

"What's wrong?"

Natasha swallowed her next words, shaking her head instead. Taking Clint by the hand she pulled him into his rooms and shut the door behind them. Without moving further, she took hold of both of his hands briefly before closing the gap between them and resting her head against his chest.

Without hesitating, Clint encircled her in his arms. He only breathed a sigh of relief when he felt Natasha relax against him.

"What's wrong?" he asked again, leaning back far enough to look her in the eyes.

"You're exposed. I don't like it."

"I don't either," he admitted, "but there's nothing we can do about it. I've accepted it. I've known this was a possibility since LA."

"Is that how come you're so calm?"

"I already got my freak out over with," he answered with a grin. "I'm just glad it wasn't you."

"I told you staying with SHIELD had its benefits."

"You did," he agreed, leaning in for a quick kiss.

But Natasha had other plans.

As soon as Clint moved back again, she pulled him close. Kissing him long and deep and making his knees weak in the process. Instead of fighting her, Clint really didn't want to fight her, he gave in. He ran his hands up her back and she arched into his touch.

Natasha grinned against him, briefly biting his lower lip as her hands slid into his shirt. Grabbing the waistband of his jeans, she tugged him forward as she moved steadily towards the bedroom.

Halfway there he helped her remove her shirt.

Inside the room, she returned the favor and took off his.

Natasha wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. She ran her hands through his hair and Clint felt her shiver when he did the same.

It was their new routine.

The fought, they'd always fight, but they had learned to let it go and make up almost immediately. They talked more now, not always directly, but more to the purpose. They still had their secrets, but as much as possible, they played fair.

Natasha broke away and slipped out of her shoes. She moved slowly and sat on the bed, and Clint really didn't need any other invitation. As he drew near, stepping out of his shoes along the way, she reached for him and...

"Wait," he sighed, stepping back. His breathing irregular, a little more rapid than he was used to it being. He was still keyed up and his whole body ached with need but this wasn't right.

Not yet.

They weren't exactly even.

The back and forth between him and Natasha over Carol and Phil was nothing. They were even on that account, it was all in the open and something they would likely continue to not see eye-to-eye over for some time. Clint was okay with that and if Natasha wasn't, she wouldn't be with him in his room.

The other thing... well, she promised not to push until she had to and Clint trusted Natasha. She would keep her word and he could sort it out. Clint knew he could because it really wasn't nothing. It was something that would pass. It had to pass.

That only left the mission.

Gnawing on his insides was the mission. The secret one he'd begun to plan with Carol and Bruce. The one both of them had insisted he tell Natasha about. And he really still did not want to, but alone, together like this now, it felt like too big of a lie to leave between them.

That wasn't fair.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her expression blank.

Natasha had already withdrawn. She'd already begun to brace for the worst. Her face a mask.

"You're not going to like it," he said, sitting down next to her and staring at the wall. 

For a moment they sat there in complete silence.

"I love you," she whispered, leaning up against him slightly and compelling him to continue. Her demeanor thawing in an effort to draw him out.

"I love you," he repeated, looking at her with a smile and feeling slightly better, "but you're going to think I'm being stupid."

"Probably," she said with a grin and he laughed, relaxed even.

Clint told her everything.

With as much detail as he could, Clint told her about what Carol wanted to do, how she'd been turned down, her dreams, his concerns and how they'd recruited Bruce to their cause. Throughout his telling, Natasha remained quiet. When he'd finished, he didn't know what to think. As well as he knew her, Clint rarely knew exactly what Natasha was thinking.

Right now he didn't even want to guess.

"Well?" he asked.

"You're being stupid," she agreed, sounding almost sad. "Clint -"

"I didn't want to involve you."

"Because you knew I'd object."

"Yes," he admitted, laying back against the bed and tucking his hands underneath his head. "There's that. And there's the fact that you don't believe Carol."

"I don't know her, Clint," Natasha sighed, laying down beside him. Nestling into the crook of his arm. "You trust her. Phil trusts her. I don't know her. And I don't like people I am unsure of so close..."

Natasha trailed off, her voice suddenly thick with unexpected emotion.

Clint wrapped his arms back around her and hugged her close.

He understood.

"Talk to her," Clint finally said. "She wants to explain herself. She wanted to help me fix things if she could. I'll understand if you don't want to be a part of this, I don't expect you to take any part of this, but we are going to have to work together. Eventually. She is part of this team. And I know you... You can't trust her till you know her."

Natasha pushed herself far enough up so that she hovered over him.

Looking down into his eyes she asked, "What if I still think she's lying?"

She didn't have to say more than that; Clint read the unasked question in her eyes.

"I don't want to pick," he said with the beginnings of remorse, "but you know it's you. I'll always choose you."

*****

"You really scared me earlier."

Bruce looked up at Bobbi and tossed his glasses onto the desk. "I thought it would be better to get some fresh air," he explained, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. "To be outside. Just in case. I didn't mean to scare anyone."

"I know you didn't," Bobbi said as she advanced into the room. "And for the record, I wasn't scared of you, but for you, Bruce. You shouldn't be alone like that."

"It's better."

"It isn't," she argued. "The Hulk knows us now. Isn't it better if he arrives," Bobbi said, faltering a bit over the word because there was no good way to state it, "and sees someone he recognizes and not some anonymous crowd of strangers on the street?"

"I really wish everyone would stop assigning it emotions," Bruce countered.

"I'm not going to argue with you over how you want to talk about him," Bobbi said firmly. "But when he's here, we do have to interact with him, and he does have emotions. Maybe not emotions like you or me, but they exist. Either they're far too simple or far too complex to explain but -"

"Stop," Bruce said sharply.

"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable," Bobbi apologized. "It's just a gift I have," she finished, relieved to see the hint of a smile on his lips. "All I wanted to say was... you don't have to run away. We all know. We all know it can happen and..."

"You sound like Tony," Bruce said quietly.

"Heaven forbid," Bobbi said earning a genuine laugh.

"He's of the opinion that, when things begin to... when it's too much I shouldn't fight so hard," Bruce said, sliding back into his chair as Bobbi crossed the room to sit down nearby. "The problem with that is I've been fighting the other guy for so long that letting him win feels like defeat. Letting him out every time he wants... every time I start to lose a little bit of control... I can't do it. I can't risk it. I can't risk our roles reversing."

"You think that could happen?" Bobbi asked with real concern. She hadn't thought of it before, she doubted Tony or anyone else had either. But who had more cause than Bruce to mull things over. He was the one constantly at risk.

"I've stopped being amazed at the things that can happen in this world."

"I still think you shouldn't hide from us," Bobbi finally said. "Do what you think best, but don't..."

"Next time I will take that into consideration."

"Here's hoping there isn't a next time," she said with a grin.

"If I had my way..."

"You just have to keep at it," she said with as much encouragement as she dared. Bobbi and Jane worked nearly every day at Bruce's side. It wasn't as if he wasn't trying for a cure, he just had not been successful. 

"I'm starting to wonder why I bother," Bruce admitted.

"You bother for the same reason tonight made you so angry," Bobbi said as if she understood. Her voice unusually tight. "You lost something. It doesn't matter how or why," she was quick to say, sensing his rebuttal. "It doesn't matter whose fault it was. You lost something important to you and you want it back and... and tonight was just a harsh reminder you didn't expect. It should make you angry. That's perfectly fine, Bruce. But you have a chance, however remote... Yes, this research might never pan out. You might never realize your dream but... but it's still out there. She's still out there."

"It's unfair," he said quietly, looking down at his hands as he did so.

"It's her decision," she returned.

"What if..."

"It's her decision," Bobbi repeated, firmer this time.

Bruce reached across the table and squeezed Bobbi's free hand with his own before stretching into a yawn.

"Thank you," he said after a moment. Sounding more like his old self.

"Just maybe stop the noble asshole routine," she said after a beat, a smirk on her lips.

"What's that?"

"If you're doing this for Dr. Ross, maybe let Dr. Ross back into your life? This 'I love you, but I can't be with you' back-and-forth is tired."

"I'll... I'll consider it," Bruce said with a chuckle. "It's just hard to be around Betty and not be with her."

"I understand that."

"You sound like you do," Bruce said sincerely. "And, for the record, I'm not just trying to cure myself for a girl. Even I'm not that melodramatic."

"I'm glad to hear it, because... because you should be doing this for yourself. You really should."

"Is this where you tell me that other people can't make us happy?"

"Actually it was something like you have to first learn to love yourself," she said.

"Are you sure your doctorate is in biology?"

"It's all my counter-intelligence training."

"I don't doubt it," he laughed. "And I will call. Tomorrow. I owe her that much at least."

"And tomorrow we can't start over on all of this," Bobbi said, waving her hands through the air. "And Tony will start building you a safe room. And we'll all live happily ever after."

"If only it was that easy," Bruce said, running a hand through his hair and feeling much better than he had before.

"If only," Bobbi repeated with a sigh.


	9. Chapter 9

Tony turned out to be right.

It took a few days but the initial buzz around the Avengers died down. The press release had helped, but the press conference ended up doing the most good. Most people seemed to respect Steve's request for privacy, his insistence that they would not be granting interviews or anything of the sort, but with the good came the bad. A few journalist still called daily. A few people still hung out in front of the Tower.

There wasn't much they could do about it.

No one had yet crossed the line and actually invaded anyone's privacy. Tony hoped that day wouldn't come, but had too much experience with celebrity to know it was only a matter of time.

All he could do was beef up security and impart some advice to his fellow Avengers on how to deal with fame. Or, more accurately, have Pepper impart some advice. If he'd only listened to her years back, his life would have gone so much smoother.

"I've been thinking," he said over dinner to no one in particular. "Where's Hill?"

"That's what you've been thinking?" Jasper asked, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"No," Tony answered, shaking his head as he continued to look around the dining room as if he might have just missed seeing her. "Not that. But I just realized I haven't seen her in like two days."

"She's in Chicago," Steve answered, seeing that there would be no getting around it. "She'll be back tomorrow."

"SHIELD has a base in Chicago?" Bruce wondered.

"No," Jasper and Steve said at the same time.

"Then why -" Tony started to ask.

"What were you thinking?" Pepper interrupted, her tone a little impatient.

Tony looked at her and frowned before fixating on Steve. The other man shook his head slightly and Tony let it go. For the moment.

"I was thinking," Tony continued, "this charity event of yours," he said, gesturing to Pepper. "This Friday. We should make an appearance."

"We are making an appearance," Pepper returned with a puzzled expression.

"Not we as in you and I," Tony explained. "We as in the team. The Avengers. We should just all go."

Clint, who was sitting on the far side of the table, looked up from his plate, set down his fork, and laughed.

"Think about it," Tony said as he took in their reactions. All of the Avengers were at the table that evening, which is why they were using the formal dining room instead of the more casual dine-in kitchen for a change. "It's a charity event, so that looks good. It'll show that we do intend to live out amongst the people and it will make a great impression. The press will be pre-screened and Stark Industry approved. This is almost too perfect."

As Tony said it, Clint realized it was perfect, but not for what Tony had in mind. It was probably as perfect of an opportunity as they would get to execute their secret mission. The more the three conspirators talked it through, the more they'd begun to realize the sticking point continued to be getting as many of the Tower occupants out of the way as was possible. 

This seemed as good of a time as any.

"Pass," Clint said, shaking off the laughter and shrugging his shoulders as if unconcerned with his image.

"Yeah, I don't think that's my kind of thing," Bruce agreed.

"What?" Tony asked, although no one could really be surprised at Bruce's refusal. "It'll be fun."

"Not my idea of fun," Clint said, still shaking his head.

"Mine either," Bruce agreed. "Sorry, Tony. I'm out."

Clint said nothing but a quick look at Natasha showed she'd picked up on his plan. Either that or she was smart enough to come to the same conclusion. It was probably that last one. She wasn't entirely onboard with him yet, but she'd made no move to stop him either. There had not been a lot of time for her to have a chat with Carol. If they were really going to do this on Friday, Natasha would need to do it soon.

"I'm not here to be paraded around in fancy dresses," Natasha scoffed.

"I am," Darcy said, immediately offering to take her place. "Can I come?"

"If you'd like to," Pepper answered.

"Can I borrow a fancy dress?" she asked hopefully.

"We'll go shopping," Pepper said with a smile. "What about you, Jane? Care to come along?"

Jane shifted uncomfortably in her chair, looking down momentarily before forcing a smile. While the legitimate media attention had died down over the last couple of days, the tabloids were still having a blast. 

"Should she be out in her delicate condition?" Darcy asked with a seemingly innocent smile of her own.

"I'm not having Thor's alien love child," Jane burst out sending half the table into silent giggles. The other half of the table opted to look about the room in search of anything that wasn't Jane. "And no one tells him that when he comes back," she added, pointing her finger at Tony in particular.

"Aw," Darcy said, "I've already started a scrapbook. The Bugle made a composite of what the future prince of Asgard will look like. Dominant genes be damned, Thor's offspring will have fabulous blond locks. And your eyes. At least he has your eyes."

"No," Jane said firmly.

"Maybe Asgardian genes are dominant," Darcy continued to wonder out loud, to Jane's increasing annoyance.

"Okay, so Clint, Bruce and Natasha are buzz kills," Tony sighed, turning his attention to Carol and Bobbi who were sitting near one another. "What about it ladies? It's for a good cause. There will be music. And art. It's at that little gallery, right?" he turned to ask Pepper.

"It is," Pepper answered, "and it should be a nice evening."

While Bobbi appeared to be mulling it over, Clint tried in vain to give Carol some hint of his plan. 

"If I can get it cleared," Bobbi said with a nod. "Sure. Why not?"

"Phil? Jasper?" Tony continued to push, turning his attention in their direction and opening up the chance Clint needed. "No, wait. Jasper, you're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," he answered with a frown.

"Tokyo, right?" Steve asked. "For two weeks?"

"Exactly," Jasper confirmed with a nod.

"Excellent city," Tony said with a smile. "Try and get out and enjoy it."

"I'll try," he returned, but without any optimism.

"What about you, Phil?" Tony asked.

While Tony's attention was diverted, Clint kept hoping for the chance he needed. Finally Carol looked his way and as subtly as Clint dared he shook his head.

"I have a full schedule of meetings," Phil said, declining the invite.

"At night?" Tony questioned.

"It's not night everywhere in the world just because it is in New York."

"So you're out," Tony frowned. "Carol? How about it?"

"Um... I don't think so," she said, pulling her shoulders in tight as she screwed up her face as if embarrassed. "I'm not really ready to go out just yet."

"You go out drinking with Phil and Clint," Tony argued.

"To a dive bar," she shot back. "Where no one knows who I am... or at least no one did know who I was. It's different now. I just... I need to ease into this whole public appearance thing. I mean, I haven't even been out yet with the team yet. No one would want to see me."

Tony looked very much like he was ready to keep persisting, but Pepper forestalled him by placing her hand over his and giving it a squeeze.

"Okay, that's fine," he sighed instead. "So, it will just be the six of us."

"Six?" Steve asked. He was sure he only counted four.

"Sure, six. Me and Pepper. Darcy. Bobbi. You and Maria."

Natasha took one look at Steve and smirked. Getting to her feet she laughed and said something under her breath.

"Yeah," Clint said, seemingly agreeing with Natasha. "You're on your own, Steve."

As everyone else began to clean up their plates and leave, Steve continued to stare at Tony and wait for an answer.

"You're our spokesperson," Tony said simply. "You have to go."

"It will be fun," Pepper promised. She liked Steve. And she liked Maria. It would be fun for them to all get together again. Maybe this time they'd even make it through the entire meal.

"I'm not promising anything," Steve finally relented as the room cleared out, "but I'll ask Maria tomorrow."

"Why is she in Chicago?" Tony asked as the three of them lingered in the dining room. "It's not business. So... personal?"

"She's fine, Tony," Pepper sighed, getting to her feet and walked towards the kitchen.

"She told you?" Steve asked a little surprised.

Pepper stopped in the doorway and gave him a smile before moving out of the room.

"She told Pepper and not me?" Tony asked with mock indignation. "Well, now I have to know."

"Not happening," Steve said with a shake of his head. "Really, she is fine."

"And she'd kill you if you told me."

"Possibly," Steve laughed. 

"All right," Tony sighed, although it went against his nature not to be in on anything that was going on. "I'll take it. Since I don't have a choice, it will do."

"Thank you for not making this an issue."

He waved him off because as much as Tony loved to talk himself up, accepting authentic compliments and thanks made him uneasy. It was likely a byproduct of years and years having disingenuous people kissing his ass to get their way. Sincerity was rare in Tony's world, or at least it had been. It was a nice change to be surrounded by people who genuinely appreciated the things he did without scheming for more.

To save himself from further thanks Tony turned the conversation as soon as he could.

While they talked, Clint got to work. 

Natasha already had an inkling of when he wanted to this mission done. Carol probably had realized his intent as well. But the two of them still needed to talk. Natasha had to understand Carol's point of view, and they all had to be certain they'd be ready to go on Friday.

To that end, Clint, Natasha, Carol and Bruce all adjourned to the rooftop.

Natasha stood at the very back of the group, arms crossed with a sour expression on her face that warned Clint of bad times to come. Carol also had her arms folded, but at least she was sitting. She didn't appear angry, only upset. Bruce kept shifting his weight from foot to foot that Clint would have found unnerving in anyone else, but for some reason it was simply a gesture he associated with the doctor. 

"You're not afraid of heights, are you?" Clint asked half joking.

"No," Bruce said without relaxing. "I was just... The last time I was up here was for your memorial," he said, looking around as if still witnessing the event.

Clint was surprised. He knew they'd had one, hell, Tony had wrecked his favorite bow by bolting it to the wall. But no one had told him anything about it. No one had brought up his death at all.

"Hell of a way to start things," Carol muttered, shaking her head as she looked at the floor.

"Yeah," Clint agreed. "Um... first, if anyone wants out..."

Bruce shook his head but Natasha made no indication of her plans, but Clint really hadn't expected her to.

"Okay," Clint continued, "so... I think if we do this, since we're doing this, it needs to be sooner and we'll never get a better opening then this Friday when nearly everyone will be gone."

"Jane won't be," Bruce put in.

"No, but we'll have to risk it," Clint shrugged. "JARVIS is willing to give us two hours before notifying Tony that the jet has been taken. That should be enough time to arrive and will give us two and a half, maybe three hours on the ground before we can expect anyone to follow and catch up to us."

"We've always intended them to know," Carol said. "Whether or not they inform SHIELD right away is the sticking point. Those few hours alone are going to matter."

"I've been making a list of equipment we might want to bring," Bruce said. "Shouldn't be a lot and even if we don't have time to run even the rudimentary diagnostics, that should be enough time to take what we need and get out of there."

"We'll need our personal gear," Clint added. "Just in case."

"In case it's a trap?" Natasha asked and Clint let out a huff of air. He walked straight into it.

"How could this be a trap?" Bruce asked with genuine surprise.

"You think I'm setting you up," Carol said plainly, shoulders squared but without a trace of anger or hurt in her voice.

"It doesn't matter what I think," Natasha returned with equal indifference. "Clint is going with you. Bruce is going. And so am I."

"Did I miss a meeting?" Bruce asked, shaking his head and realizing for the first time the tension amongst the group. "What's this about?"

"She told you this thing is calling her, didn't she?" Natasha answered, turning to Bruce before Clint had a chance. "That she has conveniently waited all this time to act."

"I'm right here," Carol said. "If you have something to say to me, I am right here."

"So?" Natasha asked as she faced Carol. "Tell us."

"I have told them," Carol returned and if her answer surprised Natasha, it didn't show. "If you want to know, fine. Whatever is on that island has been calling to me. Since my first step outside of that station. Since my very first breath of fresh air, I've felt it but I couldn't act on it."

"Or wouldn't."

"Since then I've been under constant surveillance from SHIELD," Carol snapped, beginning to grow angry. "There weren't a lot of opportunities to hop on a plane to an uncharted island."

"And so you waited."

"No."

"Then what did you do?" asked Natasha.

Carol took a deep breath and looked at Clint before turning her attention back to Natasha.

"It wasn't as strong at first," she continued, having grown calmer. "The dreams began a few months ago. Maybe they happened before then, but I just didn't remember them. I'm certain it never happened inside... Anyway, they've increased. It was once a month. Then once every other week. Now I have them every night. It's only been since they've become so frequent that I've... that I've really felt it..."

"And that's why you asked Phil," Bruce added with a nod. "It was becoming too much." Carol nodded in agreement but Natasha didn't appear satisfied. "Tasha," he said as he looked her way, "we've known this. You might think Carol has kept us in the dark, but she hasn't."

"She's told you everything?"

"Yes," answered Bruce, but one look at Clint and Natasha knew better.

"Everything about this," Natasha agreed. "But not everything."

Clint sighed and turned his back on the situation. Natasha really wasn't going to be happy until she knew everything. And honestly, Clint had been avoiding the topic because he didn't want to know. 

Whatever they'd done to him and to Phil, he'd been unconscious throughout. The machines they'd hooked them up to, the drugs they'd used, had made the whole ordeal tolerable. The only taste he'd had of the process had been at the end. On that last day when they'd pulled them out. 

It had been pain beyond anything he'd experienced.

And he knew that Carol had never been drugged. They couldn't drug her so anytime she'd undergone the process, anytime she'd been hooked to the machines, she'd been awake.

Ignorance was bliss and Clint would prefer it to stay that way.

"What do you want to know?" Carol asked. "What else can I tell you that I haven't already said?"

"You know what I want to hear," Natasha returned.

"Then ask."

"Tell me why you didn't escape," Natasha said. "Tell me what really happened in there. What did they really do?"


	10. Chapter 10

"You want to know what happened?" Carol fired back at her, waiting and watching until Natasha finally dipped her head in response. "Fine. I'll tell you. Anything specific you have in mind?"

"Why didn't you escape?" asked Natasha.

"Okay," Carol said, shutting her eyes briefly before she began. "Okay..."

_As far as she could judge, it had been three weeks._

_For three weeks Carol had been locked inside a cell with a single glass wall with no idea as to how it had happened._

_She wasn't injured. She hadn't been interrogated. There was no one else in any of the other cells she could see into from her position. Twice a day a guard in an all black uniform brought her a meal that consisted of the blandest food known to man and slid it through a retractable slot on the floor designed for that very purpose. Every other day, using the same contraption, and possibly the same man, she was brought a small plastic dish filled with liquid soap and a towel._

_Without having much choice, Carol bathed there in that cell, thankful that at least there was a sink. There was also a mattress and a toilet._

_Once a week the guard brought a change of clothes._

_It was a tedious existence and it had to change. She had to know what had happened and why she was being kept this way._

_She'd tried attracting the guard's attention, but they steadfastly ignored her. Carol talked to them through the opening when she had the chance. When that produced no results, she screamed at them through the opening. Still, they would not respond._

_Three weeks was long enough._

_Carol knew, roughly, at what time everything was delivered. She'd always had a good internal clock and had come to almost sense when they'd arrive._

_Sitting as close as she dared, without arousing suspicion, Carol turned her body partially away from the slot and waited as indifferently as she could._

_The guard arrived. He unlocked the mechanism with a panel Carol couldn't see on her side of the cell, and bent over to slide the tray through the pass._

_As soon as she heard it, she acted._

_Carol slapped her left hand down on the tray and yanked it forward, the sudden change throwing the guard off balance and wobbling him forward. With her right hand she lunged forward and snatched the guard by the wrist, pulling him into the glass wall as hard as possible. He made no sound, but Carol didn't care as she got what she really wanted and the man slid to the ground._

_The angle was rough, and she really only could get one arm through, but she did it. Carol got him flat on his back, her arm across his neck, pinning him to the floor as she applied pressure._

_"Call your boss," she hissed through the opening. "Now!"_

_The guard responded with a series of strange noises and for a moment Carol worried she'd snapped his neck. But she knew she could not have done that. She wasn't strong enough and he was beginning to fight back. Not very effectively, but he had begun to pull at her arm in an effort to break free._

_"Call you boss," she repeated, louder this time._

_"DANVERS, CAROL S J," a voice boomed in the hallway. "RELEASE YOUR CARETAKER."_

_The voice was strange and mechanical. And cold. It was very cold._

_"Tell me why I'm here," she shouted back at it._

_"WE REQUIRE YOUR COOPERATION."_

_"Fuck you," she returned. "Tell me why I'm here? Tell me who you are? Tell me what the hell is going on?"_

_"RELEASE YOUR CARETAKER."_

_"No!"_

_"YOU GIVE US NO CHOICE."_

_Carol heard them coming. With the opening obstructed, she could hear what was going on in the hallway and the sound of troops running in unison was all too familiar._

_Four more men arrived and began to attempt to pry her arm free. Carol fought as best she could, but with only one arm it wasn't easy. Even after they managed to pull the guard she'd been holding hostage loose, they couldn't dislodge her._

_They opened the door._

_Two guards marched into her cell, intent on pulling her free from the inside, and without thinking about what she was doing or why she was doing it, Carol threw her free hand up at them and - BANG!_

_The room was filled briefly with a bright flash light._

_The two guards flew backwards into the wall and Carol was so shocked by what had happened, by what she had done, she let go. The passage slid shut and still stunned Carol watched as the two men stumbled out of the cell and locked the door behind them._

_Staring down at her hands, Carol clenched her fists and tried to figure out what this could possibly be or mean. How could she have done this? What did they do to her to make this happen?_

_Most importantly, could she do it again?_

_Two days passed before she saw another guard and this time he was not alone. There were two "caretakers" now and they were both armed._

_As one guard knelt down to slide the tray into her enclosure, the other opened the cell door and pointed the weapon at Carol. Without saying anything, he motioned her to the back of the cell and then for her to turn around._

_Reluctantly, she complied._

_A few seconds was all it took. The tray was in and they were gone._

_For another two days they repeated this same routine until finally Carol just began to stand in the back of the room when they arrived, prompting the guards to no longer open the cell door and step inside. She didn't know how to get around this one, but knew that she had to regain some trust._

_Carol had to get close again if she was going to attempt an escape._

_That's when the first new prisoner arrived._

_It was a man, in his mid to late thirties. He was tall with thick black hair and eyes almost as dark. He was awake when they dragged him into the cell across from Carol's. He seemed confused and she really couldn't blame him._

_Carol had been her much longer than he had and she was still just as confused._

_For the next few days they brought him a tray and her a tray and then on the third day they brought another prisoner._

_It was another man but this one was much older than the first. He was going bald and the hair he did have was gray. He kept rubbing his eyes giving Carol the impression that he was missing his glasses. He was also awake._

_The second man she called Phillips. The nickname just came to her and somehow stuck. She had to call him something. The first man she'd already taken to calling Bently._

_Bently hadn't ever seemed to overcome his initial shock._

_Phillips tried to talk to her._

_It wasn't easy going. For the first few days they struggled. He knew some rudimentary sign language but was too impatient to learn any more. Eventually they were able to pass a few bits of information back and forth and Carol was shocked to discover that half a year had passed. The last day she'd recalled clearly had been in February, a mission brief that should have been routine but Phillips was insistent that it was nearly September._

_Bently, evidently understanding more than he'd let on, caught her attention and assured her it was true._

_What they couldn't tell her, what no one seemed to know, was what exactly had happened?_

_The next day, still reeling from the information, the guards arrived earlier than usual. And they arrived without any trays._

_Sensing something was amiss, Carol got to her feet and watched. Without paying any attention to what she was doing, the guards approached Bently's cell._

_He didn't fight them. He had no reason to. Bently obeyed their cues, walked to the back of the cell and turned around. He let them take hold of his wrists and march him out into the corridor._

_With a growing sense of dread, Carol stepped closer to the glass wall that separated her from the rest of the world._

_As one guard locked up the now empty cell, the other stood Bently in the center of the walkway. He was right in front of her. They couldn't have been more than five feet apart. Maybe less, even. She locked eyes with him and a split second before it happened, Carol understood._

_Carol didn't hear the gunshot, but she flinched just the same._

_Bently crumpled to the floor in a lifeless heap and the guards just left._

_For three days they left him there. They still delivered trays of food to both her and Phillips. They still delivered toiletries every other day, just as they always had. For three full days they ignored the body laying just outside her cell, but Carol could not._

_On the morning of the fourth day, Bently's body was removed and the floors were cleaned. No sooner than they'd finished, they brought in a new prisoner and Bently's cell now belonged to Daisy._

_Carol was almost too shaken to attempt to talk to her, but the woman, a very young woman, drew her out. She knew quite a bit of sign language and was eager to communicate. She asked over and over where they were and what was happening but Carol couldn't say and what Carol did know, she wouldn't say._

_For awhile it seemed as if things would be normal again, or as normal as it could be. Carol tried to forget it. She tried to rationalize that it might not have even happened. Phillips seemed as eager to put it past them as Carol was. Neither of them wanted to believe it was true but after another three days passed, the guards returned again early in the morning._

_They were armed and this time they stopped in front of Phillips' cell._

_He fought them._

_Phillips and Carol both knew what was about to happen, and he fought back. In the end though, they were too strong for him. They dragged the man from his cell as he attempted to claw and kick his way free. No sooner than they had him out in the hallway, as they dragged him in front of Carol's cell, they began to beat him._

_Carol screamed._

_Maybe it was because he'd resisted. Maybe it didn't have to happen that way. She didn't know. All Carol knew was she couldn't stop it and it was her fault._

_They beat him to death and all she could do was watch._

_Three days later, they removed his body and brought in a new prisoner, this one Carol called Gee, to take Phillips' place._

Carol stopped talking and walked away from the group.

"How long did that go on for?" Bruce asked quietly.

"Um," Carol said, letting out a breath of air as she slowly turned back around and faced them. "There was Daisy and Gee. And then Gretchen. It wasn't until after Gretchen that they told me... They finally led me into the hallway and I thought... It doesn't matter what I thought," she decided, shaking off the words. "The loud-box voice from hell said I was to cooperate or they'd continue. So, I cooperated."

"With what?" Natasha asked.

"Their experiments," Carol answered. "They led me to the rooms with the machines. I didn't fight. They strapped me in and got to work but... but they didn't work on me and so the killings continued. After Gretchen was Cooper. They waited longer then. They'd begun to space them out. As soon as something didn't work quite like they wanted it to work, they retaliated. They blamed me but... I didn't know what they really wanted so... so I did what I could. It wasn't enough."

"What changed?" Clint needed to know. He didn't think he'd want to, but he did. He wanted to know and he needed to know.

"The clones," Carol answered. "To start with, that changed a lot of things. I saw less of the guards and more of the clones even thought they mostly dressed the same. My hollowed out sisters. They killed the other prisoners less often and really only as a reminder. It became more random, the killings. Something to keep me in check. Time just passed. I wasn't really keeping track any more. I would ask a new prisoner every once in awhile, but mostly I didn't even talk to them. I gave them a name in my head out of habit but... but I didn't engage them if I could help it. I knew they were going to die and that there was no way to stop it."

"And then Phil arrived," Natasha said slowly.

"Yes but..." Carol sighed. "Before Phil was Ford. Ford was about my age and smart. He kept trying to pick apart the lights, the cell, he had a working mind and he got me thinking that maybe it was possible. And then the guards just stopped coming. The first day we thought it was a fluke. The second day I began to feel a little uneasy. But by the third day, I think we both understood. They weren't coming back. Not anytime soon. They'd left. They'd left us there to whatever might happen."

"For how long?" the other woman continued to question, but her tone had changed. She hadn't expected this. Natasha didn't know what to expect, but she hadn't thought it would have been like this.

"Ford lasted sixteen days," Carol said with a grim nod. "He might have made it longer but he was sick. He was already sick when he'd arrived. I could tell just by looking at him. It took him sixteen days to die and again, all I could do was watch. I beat myself bloody against that glass wall. It wouldn't break. It wouldn't budge. On day twenty-three, the guards were back. They cleaned out Ford's cell and dropped off Phil in his place. They brought us each a tray of food like it never happened."

"The Chautari invasion," Bruce surmised.

"I think so," Carol agreed. "I think it worried them. Distracted them. Phil was different. They treated him differently than they had any prisoner before. They fixed him up. They cared for him. And when he was well enough, they pulled him out of his cell and I was certain that was the end of Bug, but instead they took him down the hall towards the rooms with the machines. By that point we were already talking the only way we could. He couldn't read lips," she said with a faint smile at Clint, "but he knew a lot more sign language than I did. He was persistent in getting me to talk, for all the good it did. When I asked him what had happened he said he didn't know. And I believed him because... I don't know. I don't know why I trusted Phil, but I did. I trusted him and I lived every day thinking..." 

Carol trailed off again, growing agitated and needing another minute alone with her thoughts.

"I told him," Carol finally said. "I told him what had happened to the people whose place he'd taken. I told him what I thought might be his fate and he said it wasn't my fault. I wanted to believe it... I didn't though. I still don't. Because, yes Natasha, I should have escaped. I tried. I thought about it day and night and I tried, but I couldn't get out of there. I should have. I didn't know my own strength and I was afraid. They used the other prisoners against me and it worked. It worked extremely well so... I was scared."

Natasha couldn't think of what to say. Of anything that would refute that logic.

"When I showed up...." Clint began.

"They never kept two prisoners with me for very long," Carol said, her voice steady again after another moment's pause. "I saw you and thought you'd be next. They'd treated Phil so differently that... I thought there had to be something about him that kept him there, same as me, and that meant you were next."

"And they showed up," Clint continued.

"And I begged you not to fight them."

"You thought they were going to beat me to death," Clint said with a nod as it all began to make a morbid kind of sense. "Right there in the hallway."

"They'd done it before," she nodded. "But Phil... his reaction to seeing you. Your reaction to seeing him. They took you away to the machines and something clicked. In my head it clicked that their priorities had changed. They had a new mission or new plans. You were the only two prisoners who had known one another before it began and that had to mean something. That they might not be willing to just dispose of you both to keep me in line was something new and... I'm sorry, but I lied to you, Clint."

"What?"

"After your first attempt to escape failed," she explained. "I lied to you and said Phil had come up with a plan. He hadn't. We'd talked about it but he wouldn't agree with me. I think he understood something about why neither of you were going to be killed, but I also think it made him concerned for me. They weren't testing me any longer, they weren't hooking me up to the machines, and he was worried that I was now the expendable one. So he warned me against trying to escape. He was trying to keep me safe."

"I watched you talking to him about the plan," Clint said shaking his head. "I watched you discuss it with him."

"He was asleep," Carol admitted. "I only talked about the plan to Phil when he was asleep. That way you could read my lips and he wouldn't know any different. I had to get us out of there. I had to try. I kept thinking that even if they didn't kill you outright, their indifference might do you in just as it did Ford. That something would distract them and they'd just leave you both to rot. I'm sorry. I'm even sorrier it didn't work. After that they took you both away, locked you out of my sight, and the next thing I knew Captain America was at my door."

"And you punched him," Bruce added, hoping to lighten the mood.

"I did," Carol said with a faint grin. "I didn't believe... Phil and I had talked a lot. There wasn't much else we could do. He'd mentioned his collection before, that he was a fan, and I thought they were screwing with me. What else could it have been? I mean, Phil never got around to telling me the part where Captain America had been dug out of the ice. I couldn't have known it was really him. Plus, I hadn't eaten in fourteen days. I was a little bit... off."

"Your metabolism," Bruce started to say.

"Saved me," Carol finished. "I know it did. Twice. I don't need to eat as much to survive. I can last longer without, although at the time that didn't seem like a blessing."

"You really couldn't leave," Natasha said, hearing only a little of the last few things said, her thoughts distracted by the events Carol had described. "I should have listened to Phil. I should have trusted him."

"Me, too," Carol said. "Although he seems to think that they hooked them up permanently to those machines because of their doubles and not because of my horribly failed escape attempt. They needed the information constantly and weren't getting enough and it was something they'd have done regardless considering that even what they were retrieving wasn't very accurate."

"I have to ask," Bruce said with a shake of his head, "if Phil's always right, and he does always seem to be right, should we be doing this?"

"Yes," Natasha answered, surprising them all. "Trust is one thing, this is different. He's not thinking clearly. He's compromised."

Clint looked at Natasha with surprise, but she ignored it.

"What's that mean?" Carol asked.

"He's focused on the wrong thing," Natasha said. "The Skrulls aren't working with SHIELD because they need to. They clearly have enough resources to run their own operations. They want something. Phil thinks it's Carol but they've had her already. They stopped their experiments on her. They want something more."

"They want to know how it happened," Carol said, agreeing with Natasha completely.

"Do you really think that answer can be found at your crash site?" Natasha asked.

"If it's anywhere, it's there," Carol said with complete confidence.

"Then we have to go," she decided.


	11. Chapter 11

Steve hesitated in front of the door to Maria's office. She had texted him early that morning, letting him know she was back in New York, but he wasn't used to stopping by unannounced. Especially not where she worked.

He wasn't even supposed to be on the Helicarrier but Tony had talked him into attending yet another meeting in his place. Granted, he hadn't needed much convincing. Tony really wanted their presence stepped up around SHIELD and Steve agreed that it was a good idea. However, that job was really left to the two of them. Bruce was still uncomfortable onboard the Helicarrier and Clint was still unwelcome. They'd thrown around the idea of sending Carol, but she was still too new. She needed more training, but it was something to consider in the future. Natasha and Bobbi could come and go as they pleased, which helped, but they were also SHIELD agents.

Deciding he was being foolish, and hoping to avoid any unwanted attention he might attract by simply hanging out in the hallway, Steve finally knocked.

"Enter," he heard Maria say crisply through the door.

Steve did just that, shutting the door behind him, and waited a moment before saying, "Hi."

Maria hadn't looked up from her work until he spoke, but as soon as she did, she smiled.

"I didn't know you'd be here today," she said. "Let me just..." Maria continued, indicating that she was in mid-thought. Steve nodded and took a seat in the chair in front of her desk. "Almost done," she said quietly, tapping on the keyboard for a few seconds more before finishing up and shutting her laptop for good. "Everything okay?"

"It's fine," he answered, realizing for the first time that him being there was unusual. They didn't socialize while she was on duty. "I just... I wanted to see how you were."

Maria's entire countenance relaxed, the tension momentarily leaving her shoulders as she slumped backwards into her chair.

"I'm fine," she said after a pause. "It's nothing, really. It was an easy fix so... I hope you didn't come all the way down here..."

"No," he interrupted. "I mean, not that I wouldn't but..."

"I know what you mean," she smiled.

"Good, because I would but I was here already," he finished. "I had a meeting with Director Fury. Saw Jasper off."

"Tokyo. Two weeks."

"Right," he confirmed, however he didn't want to be distracted. "But you're okay? Really?"

"I am," she said, but her tone was stiff. "I've dealt with it."

"Dealt with it?" he repeated back, a little surprised. "It's your father."

"Steve," Maria sighed, "he is not... He hasn't voluntarily been my father in fourteen years. When I turned eighteen, we both saw it as the end of any obligation -"

"Family isn't an obligation."

"Mine was," she insisted. "I understand your concern. I do, but there's nothing wrong. It's been handled and I'd rather not talk about it any longer."

"If that's how you want it," he said, agreeing only after a lengthy pause.

Maria nodded and smiled, strained this time, as she got to her feet. "I have a meeting," she said, hoping her tone was light but knowing she never could quite pull that off.

"Me, too," he said, getting up from his chair and stopping only long enough to open the door for her to leave first.

They both turned and went their separate ways.

Maria didn't see Steve again for the remainder of the day and despite having no real reason to go to the Tower that evening, she hadn't exactly been invited, that's where she ended up heading once she'd finished at the Helicarrier.

Even though it was right around dinner time, the common room was empty and so was the formal dining room. Maria finally heard the sound of laughter coming from Pepper's office and, after hesitating briefly she pushed open the door, which was already ajar.

"Hi, Maria," Pepper said with a smile as soon as she saw her, waving her into the room. "We were looking at dresses for Friday. You're coming, right?"

"These aren't dresses," Darcy laughed. "They're parade floats."

"It is a lot of volume," Jane agreed.

"My debutante dress was bigger," Bobbi said as she shook her head, the corners of her mouth twisted slightly downward.

"You were a debutante?" Pepper and Maria asked at the same time.

"What's a debutante?" Darcy asked immediately afterwards. "Oh, wait. I know this one. It's one of those old-timey fancy titles for girls with money so that they can be exclusive and have parties to be introduced to other people with money. Right?"

"More or less," answered Jane.

"I was one," Bobbi answered Pepper and Maria first, almost blushing. "Reluctantly. And yes, it is something like that," she said as she turned to Darcy. "Kind of."

"Do you have a dowry?" Darcy asked. "Do you have a trust fund?" she continued to pester, with much more excitement.

"No," Bobbi said as if she was being ridiculous. "It was a society thing my mother made me do. And you don't need to know about my finances."

"She has a trust fund," Darcy decided with a smirk.

"All my mother made me do was learn to knit," Jane said with a fond smile.

"These are all ridiculous," Pepper decided, taking one last look at the projection before shutting it down. "So much for saving time. I'll just have to go out shopping tomorrow."

"With Darcy," Darcy added with a grin. "Bobbi's buying."

"I'm not buying you a dress," Bobbi said shaking her head. "Where did you find her?" she asked, turning to Jane.

"She showed up at the lab one day and..." Jane said, trailing off with a shrug.

"I was the best intern you ever had."

"You were the only intern I ever had."

"See," Darcy said proudly.

"We can all go," Pepper said with a grin. "Unless you already have a dress," she continued, turning her eyes first to Bobbi who shook her head 'no' and then to Maria who looked confused.

"A dress for what again?" she asked.

"Didn't Steve tell you?" Pepper returned. "The charity auction on Friday. You're invited."

"He didn't," Maria answered a little uneasily. "He probably just didn't have the chance. Today was busy."

"Phil said they were at the meeting this afternoon," Bobbi said and the room went still from the way 'they' was emphasized.

"Yes," Maria sighed, slinking into a nearby chair. "One of them, at least."

"Whose face was he wearing?" Darcy asked with a little more seriousness in her voice.

"No one's I knew," Maria said, shaking her head. "He didn't talk, either. Not once. According to the Council, he was only there to observe."

"Did they explain the press release?" Pepper asked.

"No," Maria said. "Not really. They had an excuse, but it wasn't an explanation. They claim that it was a PR move. That they'd always planned for the Avengers to be the public face of SHIELD."

"What?" Pepper exclaimed in disbelief.

"I actually think they forgot that Fury and Phil planned that program and know better," Maria sighed. "They also claim to have sent a draft to you and me of the press release for approval, which they didn't but... there's nothing we can do. It's done. Which reminds me, I need to tell Danvers about the agents we've assigned her family. All of your families," she said looking around the room. "They won't be monitored or followed, but SHIELD has placed agents nearby to ensure that no one is harassed."

"Why just Carol?" Bobbi asked. "What about Bruce?"

"Immediate family only," Maria sighed, shaking her head. "She's the only one left who qualifies. We tried to get an exemption, but... I guess I need to tell Banner that, too."

"And Jim?" Pepper asked.

"Colonel Rhodes is being looked after. So is Hogan," Maria added. "Anyone that closely tied to the Avengers, Rhodey, Hogan, Jane, Darcy... they've all been included."

"But not Dr. Ross," Bobbi said with irritation.

Maria shook her head and sighed, "We tried."

"We know," Pepper said sincerely.

"Geez," Darcy complained. "You'd think they were trying to peeve off the other guy."

"I wish I could say with any certainty that they're not," Maria said, shaking her head and beginning to look a little lost.

She felt a little lost.

While Maria and Pepper continued to hash out the details of the charity event and the various SHIELD meetings of the day, the rest of the Tower's residents had been on the range. 

Eventually the crowd dwindled down until only Tony, Clint, Phil and Carol remained, still happily blowing up targets while pretending to keep score.

"I still say she's cheating," Clint laughed, bow drawn as he tracked an elaborately moving target.

"How am I cheating?" Carol snapped, blasting the target before Clint had a chance.

"Super powers are cheating," Clint replied, switching to another target and sighing as it blew up before he had the chance to let fly. "Damn it, Tony. Can either of you give me half a second here?"

"You're slow," Tony shrugged. He was only wearing one glove from his suit but that was all he needed for target practice. "Dying really took it out of you."

Clint fired off three shots in rapid succession, each arrow finding it's mark dead center in the last of the targets. "I think I'm doing all right," he said with a smirk.

Carol dropped her hands back to her sides and after a moment the light surrounding them faded. She was getting better at controlling her power, but the sight of it was something none of them were used to just yet.

As Clint stowed his bow, Tony cast a look at Phil. Carol, who had no gear to stow, just caught it and her stomach churned.

She knew what needed to be done. They had to go to this crash site. They had to get there ahead of the Skrulls. Carol had to know how this started. The dreams weren't only nightly now, they were more intense. 

But she didn't like to lie.

Carol especially didn't like to lie to Phil.

Clint could justify it all he liked, claiming they weren't lying, they just weren't telling them what they'd planned on doing. Natasha didn't seem to care, but perhaps that was Carol failing to do her justice. Carol still didn't know Natasha and she doubted a few days on better terms was enough to enact a real change in their relationship, although it was a start. Bruce was the only one left, and the only one who seemed to share Carol's hesitations and doubts.

And that look. Tony had looked at Phil as if he had something to say and it made Carol nervous. Something was up. Something was happening or about to happen, she could tell. 

"So," Tony said after another silent look passed between himself and Phil, "I had a talk with Fury today."

"Yeah, how'd that go?" Clint asked as he turned to face the rest of the group again, having shut his case.

"Not great," Tony admitted, looking again at Phil as if waiting for him to jump in. "Our friends have made a request," he continued, finally facing Carol. "They want to meet with you."

"Why?" Carol asked, the shock of the request driving away all her nerves.

"They want assurances that you are not a Kree infiltrator," Phil answered.

"I'm not."

"They want to meet you and determine that for themselves," Phil returned.

"No," Carol said as she shook her head.

"Why should she?" Clint asked.

"You don't have to," Tony said with a shrug.

"But?" Carol pressed, knowing that couldn't possibly be the end of the discussion. Suddenly the fact that it was just the four of them left on the range felt orchestrated. "If I don't?"

"For the time being," Phil said with a shake of his head, "it's best if we all go along."

"I've been going along," Carol bit back.

"I know," Phil said quietly.

"All right," Tony said, waving his hands and drawing the attention back his way. "Let's get this out there. I know that there is something that happened in those cells that none of you are telling me. I'm choosing for that to be okay," he added. "That's okay with me. I don't particularly like it but... fine."

"Tony," Carol began but Phil shook his head, stopping her short.

"That was my decision," Phil said. "There was nothing to gain from making Carol revisit her time there. I realize Natasha has brought those concerns to your attention and I will be talking to her next."

"Don't bother," Carol sighed. "We've already talked and we're fine."

"Really?" Tony asked with surprise.

"She asked and I answered," Carol said as plainly as she could, and it wasn't really a lie. She did tell Natasha. "It's... It's not that I'm trying to hide anything from any of you. It's not a secret. I don't know any more about the Skrulls or the Kree than anyone else does. It just isn't something I want to keep bringing up and reliving."

"Completely understandable," Tony agreed, looking visibly relaxed by her partial confession.

"If you'd like a report -" Carol began.

"No," Tony interrupted. "Unless you want to write one. If that helps, than do it. But no, I don't need that. I just..." he stopped and blew out a huff of air. "I feel obligated. I'm trying to change how we work. Starting with me. Starting now. This whole holding things in and not sharing... I want to make sure we're all in the right headspace, okay? You don't have to tell me everything. If you've talked to Phil, or Clint, or Natasha, or anyone and it makes you better, than that's enough for me. That's the only thing I need to know as the leader of this team. I trust that if there's more, you'll tell me," Tony stated. "So, let's get this out of the way. Do I know everything I need to know as our leader?"

"Yes," Phil said firmly.

Clint only nodded his head in agreement.

Carol hesitated before giving her answer.

"I don't trust them," Carol finally said. "They're using SHIELD to get to something, they're just going about it a different way than how they used me. Their hatred of the Kree is real and they will do anything to get even. More than that, though, what I think they wanted was to replicate what I do. They covet the powers the Kree apparently posses. That I posses now to some degree. I believe that's their ultimate goal."

Clint dropped his eyes to the floor, refusing to look at Carol, and she knew why. She was close to giving it away. Their plans. Their mission. That wasn't Carol's motive, but she did want to find out as much as she could about where Tony stood before going through with it.

"But we don't know," Tony said earnestly. "Do we?"

"We do not," Phil said before Carol had the chance. "We have theories, but no evidence."

"We could find evidence," Carol said and Clint finally looked up at her, but he didn't seem angry.

He seemed curious.

"Carol, we've been over this," Phil sighed. "We can't do that now. If they're in SHIELD, looking for what or how you were altered, us looking for the source would only draw attention to it. We need to bide our time. I know that's difficult to accept, but it's true."

"What do you think?" Clint asked Tony directly.

"That... Agent's right," he answered with a sigh. "They're watching us. Even if we knew what we were looking for, looking for it now would be like inviting them along. Until we shake these guys, we can't do anything. I'm sorry."

Carol nodded, having hoped for a different answer, but in one way relieved. They really had no other choice but to go through with their plans. First Phil and now Tony had shut them down. The only way to get there, to get this done, was to do so in secret.

"Okay," she agreed.

"And that brings us right back to where we started," Tony said, although clearly pained to do so. "The Skrulls. One of them wants to at least meet you. On the Helicarrier. Any time you choose."

"This really doesn't sound like a choice," Carol said plainly.

"Director Fury would appreciate your compliance," Phil added.

"Then he should ask me himself."

"He thought it would sound better coming from me."

"It doesn't," Carol assured him, "but... Do you think I should?" Phil clearly wasn't expecting her to ask his advice. His face showed it. "If I say no," Carol continued, "are they going to find some new way to punish the team?"

"Probably," Phil admitted with a nod of his head.

"Okay, well, that's easy enough," Carol said. "I'll go. Might as well get it over with. How about tomorrow?"

"Are you certain?" Phil asked, but even though Carol nodded in agreement, her eyes gave her away.

"Maybe wait a week," Tony suggested.

"No," Carol disagreed immediately. "Let's get this done. Tomorrow. Can I catch a ride, Bug?" she asked, trying to sound at ease and falling a little short.

"We'll leave at eight," he said. "Will you be joining us?" Phil asked, turning towards Tony.

"Sure," he answered. "Why not? Let's make it an outing. I'll bring Steve along. Probably better if we have some kind of show of strength. Bonus, we can try and talk you into coming along to the charity auction. It will be fun. Besides, what else are you going to do on a Friday night? I know Clint is a hard no, but..."

"So am I," Carol said with a decided nod.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry -- I've been having a hard time writing lately; life has been very busy! I hope to start posting at least two chapters a week again soon. Thanks again for the reviews, favorites, kudos and everything! I hope you like this chapter!

It was five minutes after eight the very next morning and Phil was the only one in the garage.

Checking his watch, just to be certain they were in fact late, he pushed back from the car and began to head towards the elevator but, by the time he arrived, the doors opened as if he'd been expected.

"Sorry," Carol said as she stepped out to greet him. "I'm still adjusting to using an alarm clock. And the insanely soft mattresses. I'm starting to feel spoiled."

"The food alone," Phil said with a faint smile.

"Don't," Carol said, shaking her head. "After all that tofu, I'm still having steak three times a day to compensate."

"The tofu wasn't bad," Phil said, trying to be reasonable, "but the carrots."

"Mush," Carol agreed, sticking out her tongue. "Tony and Rogers should be on the next ride down," she added, throwing a look back at the elevator and trying to ignore the subtle change of stance Phil made when she said 'Rogers'. "I'm trying," she sighed. "I am."

"That's not what I hear."

"Did he tell on me?" Carol asked, annoyed and surprised at the same time.

"So it's true," Phil surmised.

"It's not true," she laughed, at a loss. "But it's not easy, Phil. It's not."

"I realize it can't be," he said, not wanting to minimize the problem.

Before he could say more, the elevator arrived bringing Tony and Steve, both of whom appeared to be in a good mood.

Nobody said much beyond good morning, but it was evident that Phil wasn't the only one aware of Carol's reluctance to associate with Steve. Tony was conniving enough to slide into the passenger's seat, next to the driver. And given that Phil was the driver, that left Carol no choice but to sit in back beside Steve for the duration of the trip.

"You asked Hill about tomorrow night, didn't you?" Tony asked, glancing over his shoulder at Steve, on the way. "Because if you haven't, I will. Because you're going. Both of you. End of discussion."

"I have asked," Steve sighed. "We're going."

"Trouble?" Tony said to him, and Carol couldn't help but shift her weight, hoping to avoid the conversation by staring out the window.

"No," Steve said shortly. Clearly wanting to avoid this conversation as well.

"That was convincing," Tony said with a smirk. "What about you, Carol? I know you said no, but I figure if you go, Agent here will too."

Carol continued to stare out the window but Phil gave Tony enough of a look to shut him down on that front.

Or at least enough to keep Tony from pestering Phil.

"Well?" Tony pressed, giving Carol a smile.

"Not this time," she answered, and he gave her a wink, accepting her answer, before taking out his phone and giving it his full attention the remainder of the trip.

Once there, Carol realized she was nervous. Phil was too, she could tell. He looked sterner than usual. That and there was something in his eyes. His eyes always gave him away.

Maria met them at the entrance.

"He's already waiting," she said in place of a greeting, motioning for them to follow. "We're set up in Room E. He's alone and only Captain Danvers and Agent Coulson will be allowed inside. You can watch from behind the glass," Maria said as she finished, indicating that Tony and Steve would not be allowed further.

"I want to go in," Tony said, even though it had all been decided in advance and he'd already been told no. Several times.

"Stark -" Maria began but Phil cut her off.

"Absolutely not."

"Carol's not SHIELD. She's an Avenger. I should be in there," Tony said with surprising conviction. "This isn't a discussion," he stated, waiting a beat before smiling. "You liked that last part, didn't you?" he added, unable to help himself. "I've been working on my serious face. I was channeling my inner Hill."

"Impressive," Maria said with a completely blank face. "But the answer is still no."

"We can both go," Tony tried. "Me and Phil. And Carol, of course."

"This isn't open for negotiation," Maria countered, beginning to lose her patience.

"I don't care if you all go in there with me," Carol snapped, already on edge and not wanting to drag this out any longer. "I don't care if the whole damn ship comes along. Let's just get it over with."

Phil glared at Tony for a moment before relenting. It wasn't how he wanted it, no one was sure what this Skrull would ask, but if Carol was okay with it, than Phil would have to be.

"This way," Phil said as he placed his hand on the door, waiting for Carol to give him a sign.

She nodded and he opened the door. Phil led the way inside, followed by Carol with Tony trailing just behind and shutting them in.

Steve and Maria opted out, choosing to watch the exchange from behind the two-way mirror in the adjacent room.

The room itself was rather small, with only a table and chairs, and Tony realized immediately why Maria had chosen it.

It was the exact same room Maria had interviewed the Skrull version of Clint when they'd first picked him up and believed him to be the real thing. 

The man with them today didn't look like Clint now, if it was in fact the same Skrull who had impersonated him before. The man already seated on one side of the table looked like a regular guy. Nothing about him marked him out as extraordinary in any fashion. In fact, he fit right in with the rest of the agents Tony associated with SHIELD.

Phil walked directly across the room, his game face on, and took up his station in the far corner of the room.

Carol, hesitated for a half a step, but rallied quickly, sitting down opposite the Skrull.

Tony took the only other free chair and smiled.

"We haven't met," he said with a friendly smile he used to disarm people, extending his hand even across the table. "I'm Tony. Wait. Have we met? We might have, right?"

"Hello, Mr. Stark," the Skrull said, looking down at Tony's offered hand for a moment before deciding to shake it. "We have not met. Our people who were assigned to your Tower have been reassigned to other locations. We thought it best."

"Good call," Tony said with his smile still firmly in place. "So, are you in charge?"

"More or less."

"I know that feeling," Tony laughed, trying to ignore the fact that Carol had her own hands clenched tightly in her lap. As long as they didn't start to glow, he assumed they'd all be fine. "What should I call you? You have names, right?"

"My name is unimportant. I am here to talk to her," he said, turning his attention to Carol.

"Well, we have to call you something."

"Ford," Carol said through gritted teeth.

She hadn't meant to say it but the name slipped out anyway. Of course they hadn't known what she'd called him, and Carol had never learned his real name, but it was him. The Skrull had picked Ford's face. True, he might not have been one of the Skrulls who had infiltrated the Tower, but he had at least been at the outpost. He'd known what he was doing, showing up looking the way he did, wearing the face of a man long dead. A man who they'd left to die an agonizingly slow death when all Carol could do was watch. 

"I didn't think that was a proper name here," the Skrull had the audacity to reply.

"Would you like me to call you mister?" Carol asked, forcing an unpleasant smile to her face.

Tony glanced back at Phil, who had remained motionless, and then at the mirror.

This was not going to end well.

"Mr. Ford with do just fine," the Skrull, Mr. Ford now, returned.

"What do you want to know, Mr. Ford?" Carol asked, her eyes never leaving his face.

"You," he answered. "We'd like to get to know you better. That's all."

"We know one another well enough," she decided.

"Do we?" he asked. "It's curious, I would have thought so but... you surprised us."

"How's that?" Tony asked. He hadn't wanted to intervene, Tony meant to leave it entirely to Carol and Phil, but couldn't. The hypocrisy was too much to take. "I mean, given what you do... I wouldn't think you'd surprise easily."

"What we do, as you term it Mr. Stark, is out of necessity and survival. And all that we've done can be laid at the feet of her creators."

"Now, now," Carol said with a lightly admonishing tone. "There's no need to bring religion into this. We're all given free will. We all have our own choices to make."

"And did you?" Mr. Ford asked. 

"Did I what?" she returned.

"Did you choose this? Did you choose to become a bastard hybrid? 

For a long moment there was silence. Tony tried to keep his posture as neutral as possible, but Carol was clearly struggling. Her whole body grew rigid as she clenched her jaw. Phil even shifted his stance, which was practically a scream by his standards.

This was definitely not going to end well.

Tony realized too late that he'd probably should have brought his suit.

"No," Carol finally said, relaxing into the chair. "I didn't choose this. I don't know the Kree. I can't say I want to know them. But I don't think you understand exactly what I meant just now. No one event, big or small, makes a person. We make ourselves with our choices." 

"I see," Mr. Ford said, mimicking Carol's posture as he slid down a bit in his own chair. "And you're happy then? With the choices you've made?"

"Not all of them," she admitted with a stubborn refusal to let him under her skin. "There are things I'd do differently. No one's perfect. But that's the beauty of it all. Every day is a new day and another chance. Another opportunity to right wrongs and make brand new choices. Every day I get to decide who I want to be. What I'll stand for. Who I'll stand with. Those are the kind of choices I'm talking about. No one made me, Mr. Ford. I made myself. Kree, Skrull, Earthling, whatever label you want to attach... it doesn't matter. I know who I am."

"You really believe that," Mr. Ford said with a sneer.

"Try me."

That ended the meeting rather quickly.

No one confronted Carol directly about her attitude or the way it had gone down. No one asked any follow-up questions or even remotely remarked on the strangeness of the confrontation. Perhaps because no one had expected it to be anything other than strange.

Maybe it was because Carol hadn't stopped glowering since it had taken place.

And while on the outside she was keeping it together, on the inside she was a mess.

Phil took the opportunity of having the three of them on Helicarrier to run through some standard operating procedures they hoped to put in place regarding notifications and joint missions. Maria had left on other business, the Avengers really weren't her only priority. And while Steve at least appeared focused on what Phil had to say, Carol realized that Tony kept glancing her way as if he suspected something was wrong. 

As if he somehow knew she was barely holding her composure. 

Carol avoided Tony's stare. She kept repeating to herself that they'd be going soon. That she could get away to her room and be alone to think it all through. That there would be time later to get past this, but not now. Now was not the time. Right now she couldn't allow herself to think about it. Or feel anything. It was best to just focus on work. To do anything other than recall that face. To dwell on the insult and the audacity of it.

To think about anything other than that... anything else would do.

But it was too late.

Taking a deep breath and glancing around the room she felt her hands begin to shake.

"Where's the restroom?" she asked, interrupting Phil mid-sentence.

Phil looked her square in the eyes as if puzzled by her demeanor and Carol was obliged to glance away.

"Down the hall," he said after he cleared his throat. "Second door on the left."

Carol nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and left with her head high in an effort to regain some pride, which she was sure was irrefutably lost.

Once inside the bathroom, she went immediately to the sink and turned the tap on as far as it would go. Leaning down she scooped up and splashed the water against her face, resting there for a moment as she took deep breaths. Gripping the sides of the basin, Carol kept her head down and screwed shut her eyes while simultaneously choking back a sob that got caught in her throat.

After several minutes passed, Carol locked in that same position, she heard the door open and immediately moved to shut off the water and retrieve several paper towels to dry off her face.

She'd hoped to clean up and pass by without notice or comment, that the newcomer would just go about their business and leave her alone, but Carol made the mistake of looking up.

Maria locked eyes with her and both women froze in their tracks.

Carol watched as Maria opened her mouth, evidently ready to speak, but stopped short, her features pressing tightly into a frown.

Before either of them could say or do anything other than stare at one another, the door banged open again. Without hesitating, Maria whipped around towards the latest arrival and pointed sharply at the door they'd just entered.

"Get out," she snapped at the female agent.

"But -"

"Find a different one," Maria said while walking towards the other woman, who was wise enough to retreat in a hurry.

As soon as they were alone again, Maria faced Carol and gave her a brief once over. Carol knew she must have looked a mess, but stood tall and looked her in the eyes anyway. Maria didn't flinch from her gaze, just held it and with what Carol realized wasn't pity or scorn. 

It was understanding.

"I'll make certain no one else disturbs you," Maria said as she turned to go. "Take your time."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Maria said, pausing long enough to let the beginnings of a smile play across her features before closing the door behind her.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever to post! Hopefully, it makes up for it... Enjoy!

That night after dinner Clint headed down to the range to practice.

He needed to be in the right frame of mind before their mission tomorrow and firing arrows always seemed to do the trick. It was relaxing and reassuring. It was what he had to do in order to suppress his nerves. 

And to his surprise, Clint was nervous.

It had been a long time, a very long time since he'd gone out for any reason. And even though not one of them expected trouble, it was better to be ready than not.

He had to be one hundred percent and...

Clint fired off one arrow after another until he was no longer thinking; until it was instinct.

"Hey."

Clint flinched as a hand came down on his shoulder.

"Sorry," Bruce said, looking a little concerned as Clint wheeled on him. "Didn't mean to disturb you."

"No," Clint said, trying to gloss over the fact that he had been startled. "You didn't. I guess... it's been awhile since I just came down here for fun. It's very..."

"Meditative?" Bruce suggested.

"Yeah," Clint agreed with a bit of a smile. "Must have lost track of time."

"You were supposed to meet me an hour ago," Bruce said with a knowing grin.

"Shit," Clint swore as he checked the clock. "It's very meditative then, isn't it? Sorry about that," he finished, moving to store his bow back in its case.

"Don't worry about it," the other man said, shrugging off the apology. "We wouldn't have gotten much accomplished. Bobbi's still in the lab. She's talking about bowing out of tomorrow night and working late on the Helicarrier instead."

"She's not going out with everyone else?" Clint asked, wanting to be certain he was understanding Bruce completely.

"She says she isn't."

"But she's going to be working?"

"On the Helicarrier," Bruce said with a nod. "Yes. At least for now. What do you think?"

"I think... I think we'll have to risk it," Clint said sighing half the words and feeling exhausted. "Tony and Steve are going to be the hardest to get around anyway. We have to do this while they're out."

"You're right."

"You don't have to do this," Clint said, suddenly serious. "They are going to find out and -"

"And I am fully aware of that," Bruce interrupted.

"And you're ready for the consequences?"

"Are you?" Bruce asked back at him.

Clint sighed again and shook his head uncertainly. He hadn't really thought about what would happen after they'd gone. He hoped Tony and Steve would understand. That Phil would see that Clint was only trying to help in the only way he knew how. 

But...

"What have I got to lose?" Clint asked, hoping to play it off as a joke.

"That attitude is starting to become worrisome," Bruce laughed. "You let a guy die once..."

"Well, I've lived through hell and visited purgatory. What else is there?"

"You really don't want an answer to that."

"I forgot who I was complaining to," Clint returned become more subdued, but Bruce didn't seem upset. In fact he smiled.

"Happens all the time," he said, dismissing the topic. "Anyway, I have everything set aside. It sounds like everyone is going to be out of here by seven."

"Then we should try and be in the air before eight."

"Do you think we'll find anything?" Bruce asked with a more serious tone.

"I'm not sure," Clint admitted freely. "Carol is certain we will. Natasha's convinced now that we at least have to check. I just... I don't know. I owe her. It's worth looking into."

"You really didn't know what happened," Bruce stated.

Clint shook his head but didn't trust himself to answer further. He'd always guessed it had been bad, but he hadn't expected it to be the way she'd described it. Even worse, Clint had the feeling Carol was still holding back. That it had likely been even worse but she just couldn't talk about it.

Not that he blamed her, he'd do the same in her place. And had. Frequently.

They briefly went over the remainder of their plans before heading up together to the common room. Natasha looked up at them upon their arrival and Clint took it as an invitation to join her on the couch, but not before giving her a quick kiss.

"Get a room," Darcy muttered from the far end of the couch, her eyes still on her book.

Phil was sitting towards the back of the room, scrolling through a tablet with the look of having just arrived home from work.

The only other person in the room was Steve, who currently occupied the other arm chair and was flipping through channels on the television.

"How can there be so many stations and absolutely nothing to watch," Steve muttered under his breath, causing everyone within earshot to laugh.

"The modern dilemma," Bruce intoned.

"It's ridiculous," he said, shaking his head and turning it off.

"TV rots your brain," Darcy returned, still reading her book.

"What is that?" Clint asked.

"I stole it from Carol," Darcy partially answered, holding up the cover for him to see. "It's not bad, but there's not enough naked time in it."

"You realize she can punch a hole through the wall, right?" Clint asked.

"I'm planning on blaming Steve," she shrugged. "She already hates him so..."

Before Steve had the chance to respond, Carol entered the room carrying a mug of tea and the group huddled around the sofas were forced to stifle their laughter. Darcy in particular watched Carol as she crossed the room, even going so far as to give her a small wave, before turning back to the rest of them.

"I think she heard me," Darcy mouthed after Carol had already sat down opposite Phil and had begun stirring her drink.

Steve took a deep breath and shook his head silently.

"She didn't hear you," Bruce said softly, also shaking his head.

Clint reached for the remote and turned back on the television, effectively ending the discussion.

"Should I be worried about that?" Carol asked, moving her chair back just far enough for Jasper's cat, Misty, to hop onto her lap.

"I try not to be," Phil returned, his mouth twitching momentarily into a smile. "Have you had dinner yet?"

"I'm not hungry."

"I guess there really is a first time for everything."

"Not funny, Phil," she said, but she wasn't quite able to keep her tone serious enough to be convincing.

"You earned your call sign."

"I regret telling you about that," she laughed as she rubbed the top of Misty's head, the cat purring in response. "You don't play fair. You really don't."

"You volunteered that story."

"But you were supposed to reciprocate," she argued. "And still, I wait, not knowing why Fury calls you Cheese."

"And you never will."

Carol was about to respond when Maria entered the room. She looked as if she had just arrived from the Helicarrier, still in duty uniform and carrying her work tablet. Maria glanced once around the room before her eyes fell on where Phil and Carol sat and without addressing anyone else she marched over to them.

"Everything all right?" Phil asked.

"Fine," Maria said shortly, before looking at Carol. "Do you have a minute?"

"Sure," Carol answered, shooing the cat to the floor as she got up and followed Maria out of the room.

The only other person in the room not bothering to hide the fact that they were watching what had unfolded was Steve. Standing up to join Phil, he looked once at the door the two women had gone through before looking back as if expecting an explanation.

"That isn't about today, is it?" Steve asked with real concern.

"No," Phil answered, but he didn't sound entirely certain. 

"Then -" Steve started to ask, but cut it short as they were already back.

For a moment the four of them stood there silently staring at one another as the group across the room whispered to one another.

Finally, unable to take it, Darcy twisted over the back of the couch in order to face the group.

"Maria," Darcy said, louder than necessary as she waved her arm through the air to be certain she had her attention, "you're not here to arrest Carol, are you?"

"Why would I arrest Carol?" Maria asked, casting her a confused look.

"I knew you weren't," Darcy shrugged, sliding back into her original position as she resumed reading her stolen book. "SHIELD would need some kind of aerial assault team for that."

"Did you think I was going to arrest her?" Maria asked, looking first at Phil and then at Steve with disbelief.

"No," they both said in near unison.

"It's just..." Steve started to say, but trailed off under the combined pressure of the looks both Maria and Carol gave him.

"Is this work related or..." Phil ventured, but got no further.

"It's fine," Carol assured him and that seemed enough for him.

"Walk me out?" Maria asked Steve.

"Of course," he agreed, following her to elevator while still shaking his head over the incident but willing to drop it. He was sure Maria had her reasons and if she wanted him to know them, she'd tell him.

Still, given the fact that Carol obviously didn't like Steve - and it was becoming painfully obvious that she didn't like him, Steve had a hard time imagining what they could be talking about that wasn't work related.

It didn't help matters that the last few conversations he'd had with Maria hadn't gone particularly well. They'd worked out going to the charity event the next evening, but not much else.

And now they stood silently, side-by-side, in the elevator heading for the lobby.

"I have tomorrow off," Maria said, bumping his arm playfully with her own before looking his way.

"Really?"

"The whole day," she confirmed with a nod and a growing smile. "And the day after. We're still going out tomorrow night, aren't we?"

"If you want to."

"I do" she confirmed as they leaned a little bit into one another and clasped hands. "I was thinking you might want to get out of here for awhile. Stay at my place for a change."

"If..." he hesitated.

"Steve, I wouldn't ask if I didn't want you to," she said with a smile.

"Okay," he agreed.

They stopped first at his rooms so that he could pick up a few things, assuming that Steve would stay long enough to get ready at Maria's place the next evening. It was rare they had so much free time together, even rarer to spend that time alone and they both were planning to make the most of it. When that was done, they went straight to the garage. Maria had a SHIELD issued car, complete with tinted windows, so escaping the notice of the paparazzi that hung around the Tower wouldn't be a problem.

Maria took the long route, just in case, and they even hesitated a few minutes to be absolutely certain they weren't followed. Once they realized they had not, they went up to her apartment.

It was a small one-bedroom flat that was highly organized, same as it's occupant.

Steve had been there before, had actually helped move Maria in, and had a few things stored there already for the times he did stay over. Maria didn't stand on ceremony, just gave him a quick kiss before heading off to shower and change. 

Knowing she hadn't eaten, since Maria hardly ever remembered or had the time to eat at work, Steve got to work in the kitchen and by the time Maria returned he had dinner ready.

"Thank you," she said as he gestured to the table.

"So, " Steve said after they'd each taken a few bites. Usually conversation between them wasn't a problem, but tonight it was as if neither of them knew where to begin.

"How did the run through with Phil go?" she asked.

"Good," he answered with a nod. "We're thinking of doing a couple of drills next week to see how long it takes the team to assemble."

"We should coordinate on that," Maria added. "Work up a scenario from the top to the bottom just to see where the trouble spots are."

"We can do that. That sounds like a great idea."

Maria and Steve fell into another silence, but it didn't feel easy.

"Listen," Steve said after a long pause. "I feel like I need to apologize."

"For what?"

"Ever since I brought up your father, things have felt different between us."

"I know."

"That's not what I wanted."

"Me either," she said, breathing a sigh of relief. 

"Tell me it's not my business, and I'll accept it. I might not like it," he said, earning a faint laugh in return, "but I'll accept it. But right now, I don't understand, Maria, but I'd like to. If you're hurt or upset, I want to know why. I want to understand because I don't. I don't and it's frustrating because I feel left out of something that is obviously important to you."

Maria said sadly before reaching across the table and taking hold of Steve's hand.

"It wasn't my intent to make you feel that you weren't important enough to share this with. I apologize. It's not a subject that brings out the best in me," she said after a moment. "My father and I don't have a relationship. We don't speak. We don't... I've had years to make peace with it and then when I think I have, he calls," she continued, her voice faltering momentarily. "He calls," she repeats, "and it's not to ask how I am. It's not to reconnect. It's just to remind me that, even now, I'm encroaching on his life. That because my name got out there, because of the publicity around the Avengers and SHIELD... somehow I've done it again. I've wrecked his life again, and having to deal with him... having to deal with him is so difficult that I just shut down."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop," she said, waving her free hand through the air, as if she could stop him that simply, and shutting her eyes briefly. "You don't need to feel sorry for me or apologize about this... I should have explained it better before now. It's nothing..." Maria started, trailing off into a frustrated grunt. "It's nothing to feel sorry for or feel anything, really, about. It's just what it is and..."

Maria pulled her hand out of his in order to cover her face. She was absolutely not going to cry. Not over her father. She'd promised herself she'd never do that again. And Maria intended to keep her word.

Her hands up and hiding her features, her eyes closed tight, Maria heard Steve get out of his chair.

She took a few deep breaths and willed herself to be calm. She tried to steady herself, for the possibility that when she did open her eyes again, Steve might have done the sensible thing and left the room. Or the apartment. Maria wouldn't even be mad. She was a much bigger emotional mess than advertised.

Or maybe it would have been easier for her if he had done just that, because when she did open her eyes again and put her hands back into her lap, he was still there. Of course he was still there. Steve had just gotten up and moved closer to her, knelt down next to her chair and waited out the storm. When Maria finally turned with an embarrassed grin to look him in the eyes, he looked back at her with nothing but concern.

"It's been a long week," she managed.

"You don't have to explain it to me," he returned, reaching out and rubbing her arm.

"But I want to," she decided, sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him in close.


	14. Chapter 14

The next day was brutally slow. Clint couldn't remember a day passing slower. He couldn't find anything to do, or anyone to talk to and the more time passed the harder it was to contain his nervous energy.

That he was nervous wasn't a shock.

Clint was often nervous before a mission, he just never let it show.

Finally evening came and Clint watched with what he hoped looked like indifference as the various occupants of the Tower who were going out to the charity auction got ready for their trip.

Those in the Tower who had a less formal, more secret agenda could only get ready mentally. Nothing could be accomplished until everyone else was gone.

"All right kids," Tony said, his hand on Pepper's waist as they moved towards the elevator. "We're heading out now so finish your homework, no parties, and bedtime is at ten. We'll be home sometime before dawn. Maybe."

Darcy was already waiting in the lobby. As Bruce had foretold, Bobbi had been called away on SHIELD matters. They were planning on picking up Steve and Maria on the way so...

"Have fun," Clint said, his tone suggesting they'd accomplish the exact opposite.

"Next time we're all going," Tony said with a grin, pointing at Clint and Tasha for effect. "I mean it. No excuses."

"Sure, Tony," Clint laughed.

Natasha simply rolled her eyes and waved at the two of them to go.

Phil was still on the Helicarrier. Jane was in her room, JARVIS had double-checked. Bruce and Carol were hiding out in the lab, the two of them were doing last minute prep under the guise of a cat scan.

"Have a good night," Pepper said with a warm smile, pulling Tony into the elevator after her.

"Goodbye already," Clint called out, his arm slung over the back of the couch as he pretended to watch the television.

Neither of them looked back, they only listened to the sound of the elevator doors shutting. They didn't move. They'd done this part before. The two of them sat, Natasha nestled in the crook of Clint's arm, eyes on the television, their postures relaxed, waiting.

After ten minutes passed JARVIS spoke up.

_"Mr. Stark has left the premises."_

"Thanks," Clint said, getting to his feet.

"I've got the jet," Natasha said, already on her way across the room.

"I'll pick up the comms," Clint returned.

Neither of them smiled. They didn't look at one another. They worked.

A few minutes later Bruce and Carol joined them on the flight deck with the technical gear they would need.

"You need to change," Natasha said to Carol, who nodded shortly and after bringing everything on board the jet, left to comply.

"For you," Clint said a moment later, already suited up and tapping Bruce on the back to hand him an earpiece. "Do you want a gun?"

"That's probably the strangest question I've ever been asked," Bruce said, shaking his head as he took the offered communications equipment. "Well, it's the strangest question I've been asked today. I'll pass."

"What about you, Danvers?" Clint asked, opening the weapons case and offering her first pick.

"Better safe than sorry," Carol said, holstering a small caliber handgun and nothing more. 

"Nice outfit," Clint snickered. "Are you and Hill such good friends now that you're sharing clothes?"

"She did give me these, yes," Carol answered. "We're the same height so... Shut up."

"Good one."

"My suit isn't ready," Carol snapped, hefting another case into the cargo hold. "This one will do. And really, is this necessary?" she asked, slapping him a little harder than needed against his bare arm. "Don't you get cold?"

"I need my arms free. The sleeves restrict my movements," Clint said a little defensively.

"And he's a showoff," Natasha added, ready to get moving as she ran down the finally go list.

"Mostly it's that last one," Bruce quietly agreed, his head still down as he eyed his work.

"I buy that," Carol said.

"Well," Clint said dryly. "I can see this is going to be fun."

They were almost ready to go when...

"Hey guys, I'm making some popcorn and thought..." Jane said, her voice trailing off as she caught sight of everyone, full geared, and locked in place, staring back at her in disbelief. "What's going on?"

Everyone looked to Clint, who in turn looked to Natasha. She shrugged and he cleared his throat.

"Okay, so, this looks bad," he began.

"I wouldn't say bad," Jane countered. "I actually don't know what... What's going on?" she repeated and this time she sounded concerned instead of confused.

"We're stealing the jet," Natasha said indifferently, going back to running her pre-flight ritual and leaving Clint to sort out the rest.

"What?" Jane said, her eyes wide as she turned to face Clint directly.

"We're not stealing it, we're borrowing it," he amended. "And technically, we're all Avengers so we're not even borrowing it; we're using it. We just need to make a quick trip and we'll be back before anyone notices. So, don't say anything and we'll be out of here soon. Good?"

"No," Jane said, following him as he got back to work. "It's not good. That's not good at all. Why? Why are you doing this?"

"Because... reasons."

"I'm actually terrified right now that you were a spy and the best answer you could come up with was 'reasons'," Jane said with genuine concern.

"He wasn't a good spy," Natasha smiled.

"Jane," Carol said, feeling she had to say something. "I asked them to come with me to my crash site. I just want to see it. I think it will be helpful for me to see it and... and we didn't want everyone to know. That's it."

"You think there's something there that's useful?" Jane inquired, changing tactics and trailing after Carol.

"Something made all this happen," Carol returned.

"Well, that makes sense," Jane agreed, pausing in place as the others still worked around her. "I should come along."

"No," Clint said quickly, shaking his head and taking her gently by the arm. "Not going to happen, Dr. Foster. We're full up. Got a doc. Got a spy. Got a show-off," he added, motioning towards himself. "Got half an alien. Thanks," he said as he led her to the door, "but no thanks."

"I should definitely go," Jane said, shaking him off and walking back towards the jet. "You'll need my help. You've got all this," she said enthusiastically, waving her hands at the people and equipment gathered, "but you don't have me. I know intergalactic thingamajigs better than anyone. This thing is extraterrestrial, right? This was a cosmic transference as much as it was a cellular one. I know space. You need me."

"We'll bring you back a souvenir," Clint promised, but this time Jane wouldn't be led away.

"She does know more about this than I do," Bruce reluctantly admitted.

"You're right," Clint agreed, "but... Sorry, no. Avengers only. If something was to happen, and I'm going along so that odds on that are good, I don't want your boyfriend coming back here and kicking my ass. I've already met my quota for the year. He could end me."

"Are you saying I can't go because my boyfriend might disapprove?" Jane asked and both Natasha and Carol stopped, stared, and waited for his response.

Clint shut his eyes momentarily before turning to Bruce for assistance, who shook his head, wanting no part of that conversation.

"Well?" Jane pressed.

When Clint still refused to answer, Natasha echoed, "Well?"

"I'm not saying that," Clint said, carefully, "but I am saying that it could be dangerous."

"I'm an adult."

"But you're not qualified for this," Clint insisted. "I'm sorry, Jane. No. Avengers only."

"I can take care of myself," Jane continued to fight. "And I'm resourceful. I hit Thor with a car. Twice."

"We're behind schedule," Natasha said, ushering Carol and Bruce onto the jet and leaving Clint to sort out Jane alone.

"Anything we bring back, you'll have first crack at," Clint said, not willing to back down, "but I'm sorry. I can't let you go."

"I'm an Avenger," Bobbi said from the doorway, catching Clint and Jane unaware. "Can I come?"

After that, Clint had to relent. Bobbi wouldn't be satisfied with anything less than the full story and Jane, seeing how Bobbi had negotiated her way onboard, worked the same angle.

Take them both or they'd call Phil.

It was blackmail, and even if he was secretly impressed, it still pissed Clint off.

He hadn't wanted the additional pressure of having a civilian tag along, or the additional scrutiny of a former counter-intelligence agent overseeing their every move.

Granted, Clint did trust Bobbi. He might not say it, or show it, but he wasn't a fool. She'd obviously proved herself to Tony and Steve and all the rest of the team. Clint trusted their judgment, so he trusted her.

But having her come along wasn't a part of his plan. In the end, it probably wouldn't hurt, but it still wasn't part of his plan.

The flight wasn't a long one, given how fast the jet could actually go. Natasha had swept the area prior to takeoff to ensure that no one from SHIELD was surveying the Tower. Even given the fact that they'd taken an additional couple of people with them, things were going smoothly.

"I'm not reading any major life forms," Bobbi said, scanning the island upon approach. "This outpost was supposedly abandoned years ago. You realize they probably took everything valuable, right?"

"Now you tell us," Clint said, shaking his head.

Bobbi looked back at him from the co-pilot's seat and was about to retort when she realized he was joking. 

She was still learning how to read him.

"I think it's still here," Carol said seriously.

Clint looked at her earnestly and wished she wasn't so certain. The whole idea of this thing, of anything alien calling out to Carol was disturbing. He'd agreed to help her, and he would do just that; Clint understood all about wanting answers. But, he was starting to regret it. He was starting to feel hollowed out, like someone had erased his insides and replaced them with ice cold uncertainty. 

He was starting to feel like he had after New York.

"Get ready to land," Natasha called out.

"You okay?" Carol asked quietly, sitting down next to Clint and giving him a serious once over.

Clint looked at her briefly before casting about the cargo hold, only to find that Bruce was also staring at him with something like concern.

"I'm fine," he returned with a dismissive laugh. He spent the next few moments readjusting in his chair before realizing he wasn't accomplishing anything. He was fidgeting. "What about you?" Clint asked back at Carol.

"Me? Fine," she shrugged, and he realized at once she was a little paler than usual. "I'm always fine. It's the team motto."

Clint smiled, a real one this time and was glad to see Carol do the same.

"What about you, Bruce?" he asked.

"I'll be fine when we land," the other man answered, looking as miserable as he sounded. "I hate flying."

"You're in luck then, doc," Natasha said, cutting the engine and getting up from her chair. "Because we're here."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long. Real life has been kicking me hard. I hope to be back on track soon. Enjoy!

Everything was beautiful. There were cocktails to drink as they walked through the gallery. Everyone was in a good mood. Dinner was perfection. And after dinner, there was music and dancing and it was all going so well...

And then Tony insisted on dancing, one dance, with Maria.

She was a good sport. And even if her smile was a bit forced, Maria liked Tony well enough when he wasn't being obnoxious, but sometimes...

Sometimes didn't matter at the moment.

Maria accepted.

She hadn't really thought much about it when she accepted, clearly the champagne had gone straight to her head, but soon enough she found herself waltzing around the dance floor with Tony and trying to keep a straight face.

"When did you get so tall?" he asked with a smirk.

"Puberty."

"The heels don't hurt, either."

"No, they do not," she agreed.

Tony laughed and Maria couldn't help herself. She laughed, too.

"Are you having fun?" he asked after another moment's pause. "Because it seems like you're having fun."

"I am," she admitted, glancing around and catching Steve's eye. He smiled at her from across the room and she blushed. Maria actually blushed. 

The whole evening felt slightly surreal.

"Enjoying your vacation?" Tony asked.

"I'm taking a couple of days off. I'd hardly call that a vacation."

"Really? In all the time I've known you," he replied, "this is the longest I've heard of you not being on duty. Like, the previous record was what... seventeen hours? And that was with a concussion so it doesn't actually count. I mean, it's been an entire day. Are you certain SHIELD will be there when you get back? You've practically abandoned them."

"I take time off," she argued. "When I can."

"Which is never."

"I am right now."

"And you know what... it's nice, isn't it?"

"It is," she agreed, although she'd grown suddenly wary. "Is this where you segue into something you want?"

"Of course not."

"Okay," Maria said tentatively.

"But now that you mention it," Tony continued, smiling broader than before, "there is something I want."

"I knew it," she said, rolling her eyes.

"You have to move into the Tower."

"Tony."

"Hear me out," he said over her protests. "It is practical. And safe. Plus, you don't get much time off and if you were always at the Tower, that time you did get, you could spend with Steve. And don't try and lie and say that's not something you'd want. He makes you happy and you make him happy. It's a win-win. You win. He wins. I win. So actually it's a win-win-win. Everyone wins."

"No."

"At least meet me halfway..."

"I already have," she said as he continued to talk over her.

"...and keep a room at the Tower. For emergencies."

"No," she repeated firmly. 

"You're not being reasonable."

"I'm not being reasonable?" she repeated back incredulously.

"Excuse me," Steve said, tapping Tony on the shoulder and interrupting the two mid-argument. "May I cut in?"

"Yes," Maria answered. "Please."

Tony looked momentarily affronted but let it go with a graceful bob of his head, moving back towards Pepper who was still sitting at their table.

"Thank you," Maria said after a moment in Steve's arms, still irritated but feeling better than before.

"I thought you might need a break."

"He doesn't quit," she said, shaking her head as she let out a huff of air.

"He means well."

"You sound like Pepper."

"That's not a bad thing," he said with a smile and Maria couldn't help but return it.

"It's not," she agreed.

Maria shut her eyes for a moment as they swayed to the music together. Steve slid his hand further up her back and pulled her just a little closer.

"You don't want me to move into the Tower, do you?" Maria asked, suddenly struck by the realization that she didn't know his opinion yet.

Steve hesitated before answering, "I wouldn't mind."

Maria pursed her lips and stared into his eyes. "That's not an answer. Do you think I should?"

"I think that Tony has valid points," he returned, "but I understand why you wouldn't want to do it."

"That's still not an answer," she said, but with a smile.

"Okay," he said, smiling briefly before becoming serious. "I think you should."

"Move into the Tower?" she repeated.

"Yes."

"Why?" Maria asked, honestly surprised he agreed with Tony.

"It is safer. It makes operations easier. Communications. Planning. If we're all in one location, we'll all keep better informed."

"I agree," she said, although clearly reluctant to do so.

"I'm not trying to change your mind," he said with a fresh smile on his face. "Maria, it's fine that you don't want to. That's the only reason you need. You don't have to explain it to me or to anyone."

"I'm glad to hear it because... Phil."

"Phil?" Steve repeated with confusion.

"Sorry," Maria said, shaking her head and looking across the room. "Phil's here. I thought he wasn't coming and now... Come on," she finished, taking his hand and walking towards the table.

Maria didn't like the look on Phil's face as he stood, not sat, near Tony, hunched over and showing him something on his phone. Tony didn't look happy either. Something was wrong.

By the time they got to the table Steve felt as anxious as Maria did, squeezing her hand once before dropping it by his side.

Tony looked up, his head in his hands as he frowned.

"What's going on?" Maria asked, her eyes flitting between Tony and Phil.

"We have to go," Tony said, getting to his feet and casting about the room for Pepper. As soon as he spotted her, he left the group immediately.

"Is there a problem?" Steve asked Phil, splitting his attention between him and Tony who was evidently imploring Pepper to stay and enjoy the evening with Darcy.

"Natasha sent me a text message on my private line," Phil said with hardly any inflection. "She knows I keep it off at work, so she knew I'd check it after my last meeting about an hour ago."

Phil handed the phone to Steve and both he and Maria read the message together.

_OUT OF MILK. PLEASE PICK SOME UP ON THE WAY HOME._

"This means something?" Steve asked, certain it did but unsure exactly what it could be. 

"Barton's gone," Phil nodded. "More specifically, he's off doing something stupid."

"You have a code for that?" Steve asked incredulously.

"You're surprised?" Maria asked in return.

"I tried calling and no one has answered," Phil continued. "I stopped by the Tower first and it's entirely empty. The jet's gone and JARVIS wouldn't answer any of my questions."

"And no one knows anything?" Steve continued to question.

"I have... I have a guess," Phil admitted as Tony rejoined them.

"Let's go," Tony said, giving them all a quick glance before leading them to the door.

Phil drove them back to the Tower. Tony had successfully convinced Pepper and Darcy to stay, leaving them the limo and driver for their return. It wasn't a long trip, but it was a quiet one. Everyone was too angry to speak.

As soon as they were on the first elevator, on their way up to the Avengers floors, Tony started in.

"JARVIS," he called out, "what's going on?"

_"I am sorry, sir,"_ JARVIS answered immediately. _"I made a promise to wait exactly two hours --"_

"You made a promise?" Tony repeated angrily. "You promised? You don't make promises."

_"Don't I, sir?"_

"No!" Tony shouted as they arrived on the correct floor.

_"My apologies,"_ JARVIS continued, seemingly undeterred or perhaps used to Tony's outbursts. _"As I was saying, I made a promise to wait exactly two hours to notify you that the jet has departed Stark Tower."_

"When did they leave?" Tony asked as he paced around the room, his gaze shifting from the balcony to the ceiling and back again. 

_"At seven twenty-three, sir."_

"It's fifteen after ten," Tony ranted. "Did you forget how to tell time?"

_"I realize, sir, that more than the allotted two hours have passed,"_ JARVIS explained, _"but since Mr. Coulson arrived within that window and left to inform you, I assumed you already knew."_

"Where did they go?" Steve asked, trying to ignore the fact that Tony was practically running circles around them.

_"Agent Romanoff has left a flight plan,"_ JARVIS answered as the AI displayed the information on the nearest screen.

"I know where they're going," Phil admitted as he ran a hand across his face.

"Does Barton know how to code?" Tony asked as he stopped in front of Phil.

"No," Maria answered dismissively before turning her attention back to Phil. "Where are they going?"

"No?" Tony repeated back at Maria. "That isn't some special agent skill they teach at SHIELD academy?"

"It is, but he never took the classes," Maria answered, hoping now Tony would focus on the problem.

"You're positive about that?" he continued to pester.

"Yes," Maria snapped. "Only Jasper, Bobbi and myself took and passed the courses. If Barton, Romanoff, or anyone else picked up a book, or watched video, or whatever... I don't know. We have bigger fish, Stark. Concentrate. Phil, what --"

"My personal program was hacked," Tony interrupted. "The main program that runs everything," he emphasized, waving his hands through the space around him. "All of this. That program. Hacked. Altered. Compromised. That is the biggest fish there is."

_"Sir, my systems have not been compromised."_

"Then how did Barton get you to lie to me? You're not supposed to do that. Ever!"

_"I did not lie to you, sir. I simply delayed notifying you that the jet had been taken from Stark Tower."_

"Not taken," Tony said, shaking his head. "Stolen."

_"Borrowed, sir."_

Tony put his hands over his face as if to suppress as scream of frustration.

"JARVIS," he said after a deep breath and a moment of silence. "How did this happen?"

_"Mr. Barton has permission to fly the jet, does he not, sir?"_

"Yes," Tony answered uneasily.

_"As does Captain Danvers, Agent Romanoff and Agent Morse,"_ JARVIS explained. _"I was not authorized to stop them and Mr. Barton only asked that I wait before informing you that they had gone. Was that not the correct thing to do, sir?"_

Tony shook his head, still feeling deeply uneasy, but knew it was time to let it go. Technically, JARVIS was right, but it was only a technicality. He could go through the code later. He could get a better answer later. By the looks everyone was giving him, it was time to move on. 

Tony hoped that was possible.

"This is where they are headed?" Steve asked, motioning towards the screen. "Why does this look familiar?"

"It's where Captain Danvers's accident happened," Phil answered.

"You knew about this?" asked Tony as he still moved from spot to spot.

"I knew she wanted to go back," Phil answered. "I didn't know she'd talked to Barton about it."

"And?" Steve pressed.

"I told her no."

"She asked me, too," Tony sighed, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes as he recalled their conversation on the range. "Kind of. She thinks that whatever is still there is what the Skrulls are after."

"There's nothing there," Maria said, sounding angry for the first time. "It was a minor storage facility but it shut down years ago."

"Four years ago?" Phil asked and Maria nodded before understanding washed across her features.

"We have to go after them," Steve said. There was no way around it. They couldn't let half the team go out into a potentially dangerous situation.

"I don't see how we can't," Tony reluctantly agreed.

"They took your jet," Maria noted. "As soon as we lift off in SHIELD's, someone is going to want to know what's happening."

"I'll file a flight plan and tell them it's a drill," Phil said with a brisk nod. "That should buy us enough time."

"Let's get ready then," Tony said, quick to avoid everyone's eye and escape into his own quarters.

"JARVIS," he said as soon as he was alone, "you and I are going to sit down and have a nice, long, diagnostic talk."

_"Sir, I am very sorry that you are upset."_

"I just... I don't understand, JARVIS. Your primary function is to listen to me. Me," Tony emphasized. "You're not supposed to be doing favors for anyone. Ever."

_"No one, sir?"_

"Who else do you do favors for?" Tony asked, realizing immediately that that was what JARVIS was getting at. That this wasn't even the first time.

_"Ms. Potts,"_ JARVIS answered. _"Colonel Rhodes. Occasionally, Mr. Hogan. Should I cease performing their commands?"_

"No," Tony answered without hesitation, "that's... they're different. I'm not talking about my friends, I'm talking about here. I'm talking about the people who live here."

_"How are they different, sir?"_ JARVIS asked. When Tony couldn't answer him immediately, he pressed, _"I have always followed your lead, sir, as you've instructed. I'm afraid I simply do not understand. Are they not your friends, too?"_

Sighing, Tony shook his head as he sat down, emotionally and mentally exhausted, and without an answer to give.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for sticking with me. I am still writing and plan to update at least once a week. As soon as I finish, I will post with more frequency. Your comments, reviews, kudos, favorites and follows all mean a lot to me and I wanted to say thanks again! Enjoy!

"This is amazing," Jane exclaimed with wide-eyed glee.

"Yeah, these are the best flat screens I've ever seen," Clint returned dryly.

"Don't touch anything," Natasha said with the tone of authority. 

They'd entered the first room and stopped long enough to get the station basically operational, meaning that they'd turned the lights on. It was clearly deserted and they'd had no problems so far. Natasha had led them to the building. She had broken into the compound and had made every call, directed every move since the moment they landed.

When she spoke, they were all listening and heeding her words.

"This is new," Bruce said as he leaned in close to a nearby panel. "Does anyone recognize this?"

The building had the same look and feel as the one they'd been held captive in up north. SHIELD had been there and made some modifications, but the majority of it was still Kree.

"They look like pictograms," Jane offered.

"Or pictures," Clint felt the need to state. He was nervous and he had to direct it somewhere.

"That's basically want pictograms are," Jane returned and when Clint continued to stare at her she blushed. "Which you knew," she added, earning a brief nod and a smirk in reply.

"Carol?" Bruce asked, beckoning her closer.

Carol eyed the shapes and patterns etched into the metal but it was entirely foreign. It was all circles and lines, ellipses and starbursts, nothing she knew anything about.

"Sorry," she said as she absentmindedly moved to touch them, stopping short and earning a disapproving glare from Natasha.

"Do you know what this is?" Jane asked from across the room, having ignored every warning in her excitement as she sat down in front of some impressive looking device.

"Genetics," Bobbi answered sounding awed as Jane flicked on several switches, illuminating the wall with images of local flora and fauna.

"We're not here for this," Natasha warned, throwing a glance at Clint that was easily read by half the room.

"Come on," he said, motioning Carol further into the station. "We don't have a lot of time."

Carol led the way, even though she wasn't entirely sure where she was going. As they left, Jane could still be heard discussing the machinery with reverence to anyone who was still listening. They'd agreed that Clint and Carol would explore the outpost while Natasha kept everyone else at the entrance, standing guard.

"Anything look familiar?" Clint asked, even though he knew the likelihood of her having been conscious inside the building was next to nil. 

"It feels... It's strange," Carol reluctantly admitted. "I was here. Everything I've read, everything I've been told but..." She stopped abruptly and gave his a lopsided smile. "Are you going to put that away?"

"My bow?" Clint asked with a grin of his own, slinging it over his shoulder as he shook his head. "No. Not happening. Not on a mission."

"I didn't think you were the type to have attachment issues."

"Stop deflecting," he said, motioning towards the nearest door. "I do the deflecting around here. And the smartass commentary. You just hit things."

"Is that my official role?" Carol asked as she pushed open the door. "Hitting things?"

"You got a problem with that?"

"I like hitting things," she said sounding more at ease as they scoped out the room.

They continued on, making their way through several more rooms without finding much of anything before coming across what appeared to be an infirmary.

"This looks promising," Clint said as they each took a turn about the room.

"Promising is not the word I'd use," Carol nearly whispered as she stopped in front of an operating table.

The room had the appearance of having once been sterile and now fallen into neglect. Most of the surfaces were shiny, stainless steel, and all the usual medical apparatuses were strewn about in a semi-orderly fashion. There were several IV stands in the far corner as well as a couple of unplugged refrigerated cabinets. There was also an observation window that, when Clint flipped on the lights, revealed a standard hospital bed which was likely where Carol had been held in-between tests.

"Nothing?" Clint asked, scrutinizing her features for any trace of recognition, but it was clear that Carol simply did not recollect her time in this building.

"It's not here," Carol said quietly and Clint felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. When he didn't respond, she looked up and caught his gaze and the knot of nerves in his stomach wound tighter and he was obliged to turned away. A few moments later, Clint looked up again and caught her eye. Caught her staring and Clint fought the urge to cross the room and get as far away from Carol as he could. Sometimes she looked at him as if she could read his mind. "It's close, but it's not here," she said.

"You can feel this thing?" he finally asked, his expression making it clear that she should have told him that sooner.

"That scares you," she stated. "I'm sorry, Ace. I don't -"

"I'm not scared of you," he said firmly, adjusting his stance to face her directly. "I just... I don't have the best track record with alien technology." Or mind readers, he added mentally, a little relieved when she did not flinch at his internal monologue. That she wasn't listening in on his thoughts.

Carol nodded but didn't ask any more. She had an inkling of what had happened to him during the Battle of New York, but that was it. No one had volunteered that information, and Carol had never pressed anyone for explicit details. Battle scars were personal. If he wanted her to know, he'd tell her.

"It's calling me for a reason," she said with conviction. "I wish I could explain it. I feel..." but Carol trailed off. The word she'd refused to say was 'incomplete' however, given the way Clint kept shifting his weight and glancing about the room, she knew that telling him that wouldn't provide any additional comfort.

"Come on then," Clint sighed, indicating it was time to move on. 

"Status," Natasha said over the comm a few rooms later.

"Nothing to report," he returned before his eyes fell upon a large metallic door at the far side of the room they'd entered. "What do you think?" he asked Carol.

"The symbols," she answered, running her eyes over the strange marks etched into the surface. They were similar to the ones they'd seen at the entrance. "I think this is Kree."

"Okay," Clint said, "that's good, I guess. But how do we get in?"

Carol shrugged, because as far as she could see, it wasn't possible. It was certainly a door. It was the right size and shape to be a door. But aside from the marks, there was no visible way to access it. No hinges. No doorknob. It appeared to be just a closed portal.

Looking around, Carol realized the room itself was different than the ones they'd previously been through. The walls were paneled with a material that looked like plastic but were clearly more durable. The lighting was defused and emanating from the ceiling, similar to the cells they'd been locked up inside. The air even felt different, as if electrified. She could feel the energy radiating around her and through the space heightening her senses.

This was it.

Carol took a step closer to the portal and the markings began to shine.

Clint fought his first instinct, which was to step backwards. Instead he held his ground, his eyes darting from Carol to the door.

"I know how to open it," Carol realized, lifting her hand and pressing it to the metal. "It's coded. It's coded to Kree DNA."

For a moment all the symbols shone with a bright, white light and then faded. As soon as they'd gone cold, the metallic panel blocking the entrance slid out of sight and into the wall, allowing them entrance.

"Wait," Clint said, catching Carol just above the elbow before she could go inside. "Let me tell Natasha first."

Carol nodded, keeping her eyes on the portal. It was too dark to see inside, to see where they were headed but her whole body practically hummed in response.

This had to be it.

"Okay," Clint said having passed a few words over the comm that Carol hadn't caught. "Let's be careful," he urged as he released her arm.

Carol didn't hesitate. She walked straight into the room with Clint right on her heels. The interior ceiling was domed and there appeared to be no corners or seams anywhere. It was like stepping into a sphere. The space itself wasn't very large and only lit by a single light source from the very center of the room. As soon as they'd gotten a few steps into it, the panel behind them shut.

The silence was unsettling and absolute.

Clint slid his bow off his shoulder, a move that was normally smooth and silent, that in the vacuum chamber they found themselves in sounded more like the rattling of pots and pans. He shifted his stance and dropped his shoulders, trying to see more than the limited light would allow, circling the room once before staring at Carol and waiting for her next move.

This wasn't part of the dreams.

The dreams had always taken her to this island, to the crash site, but never more. They'd trusted her to know what happened next and she did.

Carol took a deep breath as she returned Clint's stare. She wanted to say something, to ask if he was ready, but his posture gave him away.

Of course he was ready.

Nodding, Carol moved forward to the center of the room. To the very center of the light. Just as she'd known that the symbols would respond to her touch, she knew that the light was where she needed to be.

Standing dead center of the room, as soon as she stopped, the light overhead grew brighter and brighter until Carol had to close her eyes completely as she tilted her face towards the source.

Clint's arm went up reflexively, blocking out the better portion of the light but it still wasn't enough to allow him to see exactly what was happening. 

The light grew more and more intense until he wasn't sure if it was actually coming from the ceiling or from Carol herself.

That's when he realized his feet had left the ground.

"Carol!" he yelled, startled by the chance and not surprised to see she'd also become suspended in the air.

"I'm okay," she shouted back at him, a strange sound amid the silence. "You?"

It was still only the two of them making any type of noise in the enclosed space

"Good," he managed, but the word felt forced and unnatural. 

The light finally became so bright that Clint could no longer stand to look, dropping his chin to his chest, the atmosphere changed. The knot that had been winding ever tighter inside of Clint's stomach ballooned and he felt suddenly ill. His whole body jerked forward as if an unseen force had reached out and taken hold of his chest. He was still up in the air, a good foot off of the ground. It was squeezing him and Clint couldn't help but cry out. Opening his eyes again he gasped. Carol was apparently unconscious. Her head lolled backwards as she continued to float in the middle of the room.

That's when he heard it. Clint heard it coming and did his best to brace himself, but there wasn't much he could do. First there was a breeze, pushing down and out and spreading around the space. And then all in a rush and flash, it intensified and whatever it was that had been holding him let go.

Clint was dropped and thrown backwards simultaneously, slamming him hard against the wall and he immediately lost consciousness.

His last thought was 'relax'. It was practically the first thing SHIELD had taught him. Something Phil had taught him actually. Something he used a lot and probably the most helpful advice he'd ever received.

When preparing for impact, relax.


	17. Chapter 17

Bobbi and Natasha had gotten the basic systems operating inside the station without a problem. The cameras and security systems were still mostly intact but the files had long been deleted. Everything of value had been stripped clean, but there was still a lot to be learned. The sheer size of the building indicated a much larger operation than anyone had previously believed. More than that, the layout indicated that SHIELD hadn't simply built a base but added onto an existing outpost.

It looks like Carol had at least been right about that; part of the structure was Kree.

"This is crazy," Jane murmured as she leaned in over Natasha's shoulder to peer at the various camera feeds.

"It's useless," Natasha countered. "None of these cameras are pointing in the right direction."

"No," Jane said, shaking her head. "They're not useless, they're perfect. They're just not for security. Whoever placed them was using them to observe the wildlife. Look," she said, pointing at one of the feeds. "Nesting birds. Animals. Flowers and plants. Most of these are up in the trees or at ground level."

"SHIELD wouldn't do that," Bobbi added.

"Why would the Kree?" Bruce asked.

"Know your enemy," Natasha provided.

"Does that extend to their wildlife?" Jane returned skeptically, still shaking her head in a negative fashion. "No. No, this is the perfect place to learn about Earth... to observe without being observed. Darwin did it. This mission, whoever was here, was here simply to observe and catalogue."

"And knock passing jets out of the sky," Bobbi tacked on.

"Admittedly, that doesn't fit the scenario," Jane sighed, "but have you even found weapons? This outpost has no security."

"They had a Sentry," Natasha stated.

"Where did they keep it?" Jane asked back at her and Natasha shook her head, having no answer to give.

"Everything we know about the Kree we've learned from the Skrulls," Bobbi admitted, looking around the room with fresh eyes. "We know we can't trust them but..."

"The compound we took Coulson, Danvers and Barton out of wasn't an observation station," Natasha reminded them. "That was military. A staging location and detention center."

"Huh," Bruce said finally making the connection. "Maybe that's why Carol couldn't get out."

"What do you mean?" Natasha asked, a note of unease in her voice.

"If it was a Kree detention center," he explained, "then, in the very least it was built to hold Kree prisoners. They'd know best how to neutralize her powers."

Natasha shook off the thought as she got to her feet. She hadn't considered that, not even once. It was likely true and explained so much that for a moment Natasha regretted her decision to inform Phil that something was happening ahead of the rest of the team. 

Before they'd left she'd sent him that text message. It wasn't just that she had reservations about Carol, and this mission, but lingering ones about Clint as well. Something was wrong with him, something serious, and Natasha was worried he wasn't up to a fight if it came down to it. Not mentally and possibly not physically. They'd need backup sooner than what Clint had planned for with JARVIS. Natasha thought they'd be there already, but was disappointed on that front.

Natasha had already checked in once with Clint but had heard nothing since. Not long after she had checked with him, there had been a brief hum of interference, but nothing to be concerned about. Sometimes the comm lines buzzed and popped; there wasn't anything they could really do about it.

But after another ten minutes of silence, Natasha couldn't help it. Something was setting her on edge and judging by the way Bruce kept moving around the room and glancing her way, she wasn't the only one.

"Status," Natasha said over the line and waited.

And waited.

The last time she'd asked for an update, every time she'd asked him for an update, Clint never took more than ten seconds to respond.

"Barton," Natasha said, an edge to her voice. "Status." Bobbi was on her feet now, her hand on her hip resting just against the staves she carried. Natasha looked at her and said, "Try your line."

"Barton," Bobbi called out. "Status."

When there was no answer, they knew it wasn't the feed.

"Morse," Natasha said, switching gears as she pointed towards the entrance. "Stand guard. Dr. Foster, you'll need to stay clear," she said, indicating the corner she wanted Jane in. "Banner, you're with me."

Before Bruce or anyone could object, Natasha was racing down through the door Carol and Clint had left through. 

"Is this a good idea?" Bruce asked, having to jog a few feet to catch up.

"You've got a better one?"

"I meant me coming along," Bruce returned. "My only defense is the other guy."

"Here," Natasha said without missing a step, passing him one of her guns.

"I really don't like guns."

"I really don't care right now," Natasha said as she moved forward, her eyes quickly taking in each room the rushed through before heading on to the next.

"His line might have just shorted," Bruce said hopefully.

Natasha nodded. It was possible but she didn't think it very likely. Clint had responded earlier. He'd heard her just fine before. Mentally cursing the fact that they didn't take Carol's new equipment out with them, Natasha vowed not to make that mistake again.

Picking up the pace, Natasha raced through the last few rooms before coming to a stop.

They'd reached the end.

The last room was completely empty except for a strange metallic panel at the far end.

"Did we miss a turn?" Bruce asked, glancing around and knowing that wasn't possible.

Natasha shook her head, continuing to look around her before her eyes fell again upon the panel. Stepping closer she realized it was covered with the same strange symbols and signs they'd seen on other machinery throughout the outpost. That and it was just big enough to pass as a door.

"There has to be a way," Natasha muttered as she ran her hands along the edges and over the surface, but it was completely smooth. There were no hinges, no latches, nothing to give way and allow them inside.

Bruce turned once around the room, hoping to find some kind of release or lever, but there was nothing. 

"Maybe it's something to do..." he started to say as he ran his hands over the symbols, but he stopped talking when the door abruptly shifted and began to slide out of sight.

"How -" was all Natasha had time to say before they were face to face with Carol and Clint. The sight of them momentarily stunned her into silence.

Carol was leaning against the frame of the portal, barely on her feet, with one arm wrapped around Clint who was knocked unconscious. Other than being passed out, Clint looked fine, but Carol was a mess. Blood was running from her nose and ears, and her eyes were foggy and unfocused.

Without asking, Natasha took responsibility for Clint. He was heavier than he looked, but she was strong enough to set him down against the wall before checking him over.

"Cracked his head," Carol breathed before nearly collapsing herself. Bruce caught her and helped her sit on the opposite side of the room from where Natasha and Clint were. "He hit the wall," she continued, still glancing around Bruce to catch a better look. "There's some blood but I don't know how long ago that was. I couldn't wake him."

"Natasha has him," Bruce said firmly as he leaned down and looked her in the eyes. Taking her face into his hands, he continued to speak directly to Carol alone as he tried to get her to focus. "I need to know what happened to you. Did you hit your head? What happened in there, Carol?"

"I saw stars. A universe full of them."

"Call Morse," Bruce said to Natasha with a note of concern.

"I think he's coming to," Natasha said, ignoring his request as Clint began to stir.

"It was an accident," Carol continued to mutter, her eyes still glossy as they darted about.

"Those happen," Bruce assured her, still holding her head still in his hands.

The blood was no longer flowing from her nose, but it worried him. Something internal was likely broke. By the way she was rambling, she needed a doctor. A real, medical doctor and much more help than he could likely give. 

"Clint," Natasha said anxiously. "Clint," she repeated, and the worry in her voice caused Bruce to turn his head back in her direction.

They were directly behind him, so unless Bruce got to his feet he wouldn't be able to see what was going on. He debated whether or not he should go and help Natasha, Carol seemed to be beyond anything he could do, but there was something in her voice that made him hesitate.

"Look at me, Clint," Natasha said and her voice cracked. "Clint, please. Look at me. Relax. It's okay. It's okay."

"Tasha," Bruce started to say but Carol suddenly reached up and mirrored his stance, putting her hands on his face and forcing him to look her in the eyes.

Something deep in Bruce's chest rumbled briefly to life.

Carol loosened her grip, almost as if she'd felt it too, and dropped one hand to his chest. Her eyes were lucid and her posture had changed. Her body was rigid and tense now. She was alert and aware and staring hard into his eyes.

"It's okay," she, her left hand tangled in his hair as she pulled him closer still, but there was nothing romantic about the embrace. Carol simply wanted his attention and she definitely had it. "Tell him it's okay but you have to go."

"Morse," Natasha said, finally calling the other woman over the line and ignoring the exchange taking place directly behind her. "Get down here and bring Foster. Barton's down."

"I'm fine," Clint snapped loud enough for everyone to hear. Before than he'd been mumbling incoherently. "I'm..."

"Stay down," Natasha said sharply.

"You have to go," Carol repeated with urgency in her voice.

"If you want me to leave you have to let go," Bruce said, kind but firm.

Carol's grip relaxed, but her hands still hung around his neck, resting against Bruce's shoulders.

"Can you stand?" Bruce asked and when Carol nodded, he slid his arms to her waist and assisted in the movement. He expected her to move away, to pull back, but she didn't. She stayed close to him, looking first at Clint and then with a distracted air towards the room they'd exited. "Carol?" he asked.

"You have to go," she said, shaking her head and suddenly standing tall. "You have to," she repeated with more conviction and with that she was moving.

Carol stepped away from Bruce to where Natasha and Clint were still arguing.

"Get up," Carol said to Clint, offering him a hand despite Natasha's protests. "Can you help him?" she asked Natasha, and then not bothering to wait for an answer, wheeled back to Bruce. "The two of you can. Between the two of you, you should be able to get him back to the jet. Right?"

"Oh God, your face," Bobbi said upon entering the room, glancing at Carol with horror. "What happened?"

"No, no, no," Carol said, shaking her head at the new arrivals and motioning back the way they'd came. "You have to go. You all have to get out of here. Now," she barked. "Get back on the jet and go. They're coming. They're coming."

"Carol," Bruce said, "you've hit your head. I don't think --"

"The transmission was interrupted," Carol said, cutting across Bruce's words. "He was trying to explain but they locked on the signal and they're coming. You have to go. All of you. Now."

"Who?" Clint asked, back on his feet with his arm draped over Natasha's shoulders for support.

Carol ignored him, walking out of the room at a breakneck pace, heading for the entrance and forcing the group to follow.

Clint was moving as fast as he could, but the bump to the head had taken a lot more out of him than he was willing to admit. He needed Natasha's help, but it slowed them both down considerably. Bobbi and Jane were lost, understanding even less than the others as to what exactly was happening, which left only Bruce to chase Carol down.

"Carol," he called, leaving the rest behind in an effort to catch her. "You're not making any sense. Who are you talking about? Who's coming?"

"We'll talk at the jet," she answered when she finally stopped just outside the main entrance.

"We'll talk now," he argued, taking hold of her gently, his hands resting just above her elbows as he attempted to get a better read on her current state of mind. "I don't think you're well."

"I'm fine, Bruce," Carol breathed. "I swear. I've never felt... I feel great, I do but..."

"What's going on?" Bobbi asked, stopping cold as she stared at the two of them.

"Come on," Carol said as she pulled away and continued on to the jet.

"What -" Bobbi began to ask, turning to Bruce with more than just concern.

"Wait for Jane," he interrupted, giving her half a glance before his eyes turned back in the direction the other woman had left. "I don't want to leave her alone."

Bobbi let out a huff of air, but didn't argue. A few minutes was all it took for the rest of group to gather outside and then Bobbi led the way back to the jet. When they were all finally there, they found Bruce pacing outside and Carol in the pilot's seat, gearing up the engines to go.

"She won't answer me," he shrugged. "She must have hit her head, too, but she's... she's not making any sense."

Natasha led Clint inside the jet and sat him down in the nearest seat. "Talk," she ordered, ignoring the momentary sneer that played across his features.

"And say what?" Clint snapped as he rubbed the back of his head. "I was knocked out. I don't know what happened."

Natasha frowned and turned her attention to Carol, who was steadily ignoring them all as she continued to run through the checklist.

"What was that room?" Bruce asked, folding his arms over his chest and trying to tap down his own growing panic. 

"I don't know," Clint said, calmer than before, facing Bruce directly. "Something... It reacted to her."

"Okay," Carol said, getting to her feet and rushing out the back again and off the jet. "Go. Just go," she urged, waving them off as she lifted her eyes towards the sky.

"Does she think we're leaving her here?" Jane asked, confused as she turned from Bobbi to Bruce.

"You are leaving me," Carol answered with a nod. "Now. They're on their way."

"Who?" Bruce snapped, having lost his patience and beginning to lose his temper as well.

"Sentries," Carol said, running her hands over her face to wipe clean some of the blood. "They're coming for me because... because they think I'm him and... I don't have time to tell you everything and we can't fight off... They'll follow me. They're locked in now. Last time it was only one and they've learned that lesson. They've done it before and... You have to go. Just go."

"We're not leaving you," Clint said, angry that she'd even consider it.

"Absolutely not," Bobbi agreed. She didn't understand exactly what was going on, and she certainly didn't like it, but she hadn't forgotten what she owed Carol. Clint had stayed with her on that jet when she couldn't leave and Carol had come back and saved them both. Clint and Natasha weren't the only ones that repaid their debts.

"How do you know this?" Natasha asked.

"I just do," Carol said with conviction.

"How many?" Natasha continued to question.

"Tasha," Clint called out, but she ignored him.

"Five," Carol answered, looking her in the eye and completely sincere. "The first assault will be five. It took all of us to take down three," she said with a sad shake of her head and Natasha understood.

"We're not leaving," Clint said sharply, getting unsteadily to his feet to stand at the top of the ramp.

"We're not," Tasha agreed, her eyes falling first to Carol and then to Bruce.

"Good," Clint returned, feeling slightly relieved that she'd not fought back.

"But you are," Tasha finished, looking directly his way.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on the last chapter today, so that means I can hopefully start posting more frequently. Thanks again for everything and I hope you enjoy!

"I'm not going," Clint said firmly.

"We'll have a better chance together," Bobbi agreed.

"I've already got you hurt," Carol argued, shaking her head at Clint and firm in her decision. "I've already led you here, into danger, and it was a stupid mistake I won't make again. You're in no condition to fight," she directed at Clint, "someone has to fly," she directed at Bobbi, "and Jane... Jane, you're brilliant, but unless you can rig up a giant robot stomping machine in the next couple of minutes, you shouldn't be here."

"Get on the jet and go. Call the Tower for backup," Natasha urged, "and get Dr. Foster to safety."

"Anything else?" Clint asked with a stony glare.

"Don't come back," Natasha ordered.

Clint continued to stare at Natasha for a moment longer before turning his back on the group and setting himself down in the co-pilot's seat.

"Hurry," Carol added with naked concern.

Bobbi nodded briskly, casting a look towards Bruce who was pacing in the background. 

"Come on, Jane," Bobbi said.

Jane didn't argue, assuming that if both Bobbi and Clint were going along, there was no point in dissenting.

Bobbi took over the pilot's responsibilities saying as little as possible to Clint, which was honestly how he preferred it and they were on their way back in the air almost immediately.

This was not the plan.

Of course, nothing ever did go as planned. Not for Clint. 

Since he'd woken up on the floor, Natasha staring down at him with worry in her eyes, his ears hadn't stopped ringing. It wasn't usually this big of a problem for him, because he wouldn't let it be. It had happened before, certainly never this loudly, and it would stop. The ringing would stop, along with the humming and the vague nauseous feeling in his gut about how dull everything around him felt. He didn't have time to be concerned. Mentally cursing himself, he didn't have time for this now.

It was a sensation he'd grown accustomed to but would never accept.

"Barton," Bobbi snapped, evidentially annoyed at having called his name more than once.

"I'm doing my job," he muttered after adjusting his comm link.

"I asked you a question."

"What?"

"You hit your head?" she asked

"Yes," he said with a weary sigh as he rubbed a hand through his hair, thankful that at least he was no longer bleeding. "Was that the question?"

"No, Barton, it wasn't," she said, mimicking his tone. "I asked your opinion about LA."

"It sucks."

"To land," Bobbi said, shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath in order to keep calm. "What if we land in LA?"

"It's closer," Clint agreed, not certain where she was going with her current train of thought.

"We can call Tony's driver, Hogan. He could meet us at the airport and take Jane to the mansion," Bobbi continued. "Call Colonel Rhodes. See if he's up for a fight."

"Natasha wants us at the Tower," Clint said, rubbing his eyes and feeling the beginnings of a massive migraine coming on. The ringing was still there only duller now. Everything was still a little muddy, but better than before.

"She wants us to call the Tower for backup," Bobbi corrected. "And we will."

"She doesn't want me to come back."

"Then, when we land, you are free to depart the jet with Jane," Bobbi said with a shrug. "But someone has to transport War Machine to the battle and while I don't mind flying solo, I prefer to have a co-pilot."

"I'll call Hogan," Clint said, not ready to answer her directly. Not sure what his next move would be. Worried Natasha was right and he wasn't fit for a fight but that had never stopped him before. He'd fought with worse injuries than this and considering he started this mess, Clint felt obligated to see it through.

"I'll contact Stark," Bobbi said.

Clint nodded and got on the line, giving Happy a heads-up and asking him to be there waiting at the private airstrip Tony regularly used when on the west coast.

When he was done, Jane was standing in the space between the two seats and they both listened in on Bobbi's half of the conversation.

"Mockingbird, out," she finished, shaking her head as she adjusted her grip on the controls.

"That bad?" Jane asked tentatively.

"Worse," Bobbi sighed.

*****

"Copy that, Mockingbird," Steve said across the line. "We're ten minutes out. See you soon," he finished, before glancing first at Maria and then over his shoulder to Tony. "Catch all that?"

"You mean hell breaking loose," Tony returned, his words clipped short by his anger. "Yeah. Got it."

As soon as the request for backup had come in Steve had patched it over the intercom, more for Phil's benefit than for Tony's; Tony monitored all the lines via his suit. Maria, in the co-pilot's seat had already been patched in, but she only listened and didn't intercede. Morse had offered no explanation as to why they were out, or why they'd been sent away, and Steve hadn't asked for one. She did seem surprised to find out that they were so nearby but their conversation wasn't long.

"I thought we knew where these things were already," Phil said, on his feet and checking the gear onboard.

"I've been wrong before," Tony said with a shrug.

"When will Morse and Barton be back?" he asked.

"She's at full throttle," Maria answered, "but it's going to be at least an hour."

"Ideas?" Tony asked the group.

"You and I go in," Steve said, switching the main controls over to Maria. "Coulson and Hill, provide cover from above. Just remember, these things are faster than they look. Widow's probably got her own plan already in action. When we make contact with the ground unit, we'll reassess."

Steve got to his feet, dropping a hand on Maria's shoulder and giving her a light squeeze, but nothing more. She reached up and brushed his fingers with hers instead of saying goodbye. There wasn't time and this wasn't the place. It would have to do.

Phil swapped places with him, sliding into the pilot's seat and taking back the controls as Steve finished readying his gear.

"Nearing drop sight," Maria called over the intercom. "Opening the hatch now."

Steve and Tony moved to the rear of the jet, looking out over the ocean below and spotting the island for the first time.

The fight was already underway.

There was at least five Sentries already there and from the looks of the water below, at least three more on the way.

"You're clear," Phil called out.

Tony tapped Steve on the chest and lowered his mask.

"See you, Cap," he said before blasting off.

Steve adjusted his comm and his cowl before leaping after him, leaving Maria and Phil alone on the jet.

"Tap into Widow's frequency," Phil instructed Maria. "Let's get everyone on the same page."

"Done," Maria said after a moment 's work.

"Widow," Phil said, still steady and even despite the circumstances. "Status report."

"Five in sight," her voice came back immediately over the line. "Hulk has one nearly down now. We could use a flyby."

"Iron Man and Captain America are inbound," he informed her. "We're swinging around now for a sweep."

"Copy that."

Phil steered the jet in low enough to get a visual and Natasha was spot on, as always. The Hulk was straddling one of the Sentries. Another was being distracted by Natasha as Carol climbed it's back and was attempting to rip free the machine's mechanics. 

Maria fired when where she thought it would best help, guided by Phil's suggestions. Tony and Steve were already on the scene, tackling a third Sentry, as the two that were not being actively handled began to rip into the only building on the island.

The two of them made several more passes over and through the fight with little effect.

"Let's change this up," Phil said, steering the jet back towards the water. "They get one down, two more pop up."

"So what are you suggesting?" Maria asked as she looked out over the ocean.

He wasn't wrong. More Sentries emerged from the water as they looked on, ready to join what was beginning to feel like an endless fight. The total number had to be close to ten. It was hard to imagine where they'd all even come from.

"We need to drive them back," Phil said before opening fire on one that had just stepped foot on the meager beach; the island really wasn't very big.

"Okay," Maria tentatively agreed. "Just remember that..." she started, sucking in a breath as the Sentry leaped into the air and took flight. "They fly, Coulson. Let's just keep that in mind."

Phil swung the jet around, leading the Sentry on a chase, one that was soon joined by two additional Sentries and Iron Man.

Phil and Maria continued pull the attention away from the ground fight as Tony managed to blast a hole through the one directly on their tail, disabling it permanently.

"What's that now? Three?" he asked over the line.

"Four," Steve answered.

"And six more to go," Natasha added.

"Make that ten," Maria amended.

"Is Danvers' wired?" Tony asked.

"No," Natasha answered.

"Then keep her insight," Steve urged.

"Copy," Natasha returned and for the time being all chatter ended as the fight raged on.

Phil took the opportunity to swing across the battlefield again, to visually check their progress. Tony was still in the air, handling a new Sentry, as Steve and Natasha worked together to combat another. Hulk had moved on to a new one and so had Carol.

"Phil," Maria shouted, but a moment too late.

A Sentry directly below them locked in and jumped upward. The words had barely escaped Maria's lips when the jet was lifted upward and ripped in two.

Phil hit the eject button and both the pilot's seat and the co-pilot's seat jettisoned free, however only Maria's parachute launched.

"Tony," Steve shouted, having witnessed the event. "Your six!"

Aware of this, vaguely, as the chair he was still strapped to spun wildly out of control, Phil could only hold on until Tony arrived and trust that he would do so.

And he did.

The chair stopped, caught from behind, and slowed down as they descended towards the ground. Phil let out a sigh of relief as they touched down.

"Thanks," he said, fumbling to undo the restraints and get to his feet again.

"You're welcome."

Phil froze, looking up at what was most certainly not Tony's voice.

"Carol?" he asked, shocked because it couldn't be her.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, giving him a once over but apparently not trusting her eyes any more than he was trusting his. Resting her hands briefly on his shoulders before running them down his arms as if in confirmation that Phil was in fact completely intact.

"Are you?" he returned as he stared at her bloodstained face.

"It's nothing," Carol answered, wiping absently at her nose with the back of her hand. "Damn things are tough but they didn't do this. Now, if you'll excuse me..." she said, starting off at a run back into the action.

"Wait," he yelled, bringing her to a stop. "Did you just fly?"

Carol looked up at the sky before meeting Phil's eyes again and gave him a crisp nod.

"Could you always do that?"

"Maybe," she answered. "I'm not sure, but I can now. It's... I swear, when this is done... We can talk after, but now... More are coming."

"How many more?"

"They're sending everything they've got stashed nearby."

"Go," he urged, drawing his gun and following behind. "I'm good. Go."

"Thanks, Bug," she said, smiling at him before turning away again.

"I've got your back," he assured her, running to keep pace as best as he could.

"And I've still got yours," she shouted back down at him as she took three quick strides and leaped into the air.

Phil followed behind Carol on foot, fortunately not a long run, to the main building where he was pleased to find Maria waiting.

"Morse and Barton are close," she told him. "War Machine just did a fly by. Do you want them to pick us up?"

"No," Phil answered shaking his head for emphasis as he double checked his weapon. "Can't risk it. We need them in the air."

The battle was brutal, but the tide had slowly turned in favor of the Avengers. Phil watched as Morse weaved the jet above the scene, the back ramp opened as Clint surveyed the area.

"Firing EMP," Clint said over the line.

"Be careful with that thing," Tony admonished sharply. "You hit me or Rhodey and you'll knock us out of the sky."

"Yeah, let's avoid that," Rhodes agreed with a slight chuckle in his voice. "That wouldn't be good."

"I never miss," Clint said to himself as he took aim.

True to his word, Clint hit the biggest one right where he'd wanted at the base of its neck. A second later the Sentry locked up and went dark before tumbling forward, complete rigid and immobile.

"Great," Tony said dryly. "It worked. How many did I make again?"

"Three," Clint answered, motioning for Bobbi to swing around again. "Total. I've got two left."

"I can do math," Tony snit back at him. "Any advice, Captain?"

"Less chatter," he intoned before tossing his shield into the nearest Sentry's kneecap. "Morse, you got a visual on how many of these things are left?"

"Got a count of six... No, seven. One more just came up out of the water but I think that's it."

"Hawkeye," Steve said. "Knock out two more, will you?"

"On it," Clint returned.

"What about the other five?" Tony asked.

"You are good at math," Natasha commented.

"Four," Rhodes amended. "The big guy just took down another one."

"Okay, flyers," Steve said. "Get them on the ground. We'll take them out here. Everyone clear?"

"You heard the Captain," Tony said. "Let's finish this."


	19. Chapter 19

When they'd finally finished the fight, the island looked more like a junkyard with spare parts and debris strewn every which way. Phil had reluctantly called SHIELD and ordered a cleanup crew, and after salvaging what they could the whole team got back on the jet and got out of there. There hadn't been much left to salvage. All of the Sentries had been torn to pieces and the lone building had been completely destroyed.

The flight back was incredibly tense.

Bruce was the only one who got any kind of rest. The transformation into the Hulk and back again took an extreme toil on him physically. Because of that, he had to sleep but it had been a fitful slumber. No one else was at ease and the only talking anyone did was related directly to work.

They made one stop in LA to drop off Rhodey and picked up Jane and were back at the Tower while it was still dark.

Everyone got off the jet and lingered in the common room for a moment until Tony realized they were waiting on him. He was after all the leader.

"Why don't we all get cleaned up and meet in the conference room," he suggested. "Half an hour enough time for everyone?" he asked and when no one objected, Tony nodded and left the room in a rush.

Everyone else trickled out after him to their own quarters and fifteen minutes later when Tony, frustrated and annoyed because he didn't know exactly how to handle the situation, entered the conference room only to find that Carol had gotten there first.

"We have to talk," Carol said, getting to her feet and hurrying towards Tony as soon as he'd set foot inside the room.

Tony gave her an indifferent glance. She hadn't even showered or changed yet. Carol had gone straight from the jet to this room, obviously looking for this chance to speak to him alone.

"If this is you trying to take all the blame, save it," Tony said, unable to look her directly in the eyes for very long. He was still too angry. "Barton's smart enough to know what he was up to."

"I know that," Carol insisted, "and so am I. We all are," she added, earning a momentary look of surprise before Tony resumed staring back at her with scorn. "We weren't holding secret meetings because we thought you'd approve."

"At least you're honest," he said with a bitter tone.

"I will say that Morse and Foster weren't a part of it," she continued, ignoring his jab. "They were just at the wrong place when it all went down."

"I'll make a note of that," Tony said dismissively as he sat down and began to pull up busy work in an effort to end the conversation.

"And this isn't what we need to talk about anyway," Carol persisted, standing over him and refusing to be dismissed.

"Save it for the group."

"No," Carol said, shaking her head as she slapped her hand against the table. "You need to listen. Discipline the four of us however you see fit," she conceded, "but get over it. We need to be united. We have to be."

"And we're not?" he asked sarcastically, standing up to walk away. "Who's fault is that again?"

"Then throw me out," she snapped as the door opened, ushering Steve inside. For a moment the three of them stood silently in the room, staring at one another as the tension escalated. "Throw me out," Carol finally repeated in a calmer tone. "If that's what you need to do, do it, but listen to me first. You asked to know the big things and that's why I'm here. The Skrulls were right. The Kree are planning to invade Earth." 

For a moment, the three of them were completely silent as the words sunk in. 

"You can't know that," Tony said quietly, shaking his head as he did so. He didn't want to believe it. Or her. Or anything anyone had to say right now. It was too much.

"That station housed rebels," Carol explained. "They've defected from the Kree Empire and are on the run. They've left Earth now because... because we're not savable. They think we're a lost cause. My accident... That crash, it wasn't the Sentry that did this to me," she said, tapping her chest. "The rebels had the idea that if they could alter us, alter humankind with Kree genetics that we might have a chance against them, but they were discovered. That's what they were doing here. That's what the Skrulls were trying to replicate. They wanted those powers for themselves. The Sentry that took out me and my friends was attacking those rebels that day and we were just in the way. What they did to me was a last ditch attempt and it wasn't complete. That's what was driving me there... they needed to complete the process and..."

"Complete what process?" Tony asked, the momentary horror wiping the anger from his voice.

"Me, I guess," Carol said, rubbing her head and sounding less confident than before. "The way they communicate is... It's hard to describe. I was there in the room, but I wasn't. I could hear and see them, but I could also hear and see everything around me." She stopped and looked at the door, certain she'd heard someone but finding nothing. "They explained that my powers would be whole now but they never said exactly what those whole powers would be. The entire conversation felt like it was hours long but... but it couldn't have been more than ten minutes tops. It was as if they pushed the information, the changes, into me. It didn't even sink in what they were saying or what it all meant until now. It was like being in shock. It still feels... It feels unreal but it is. It happened and..."

"How do we trust this?" Tony asked after a long pause, directing the question to Steve, not Carol.

"We have to," Steve said, shaking his head as he placed his hands on his hips. "This isn't something new. Not really. Skrulls say the Kree are bad news. Thor says it. Now... now even their own people are warning us. We need to take it serious."

"Where are these rebels now?" Tony asked.

"Gone," Carol shrugged. "I think Earth was going to be their big stand. It was supposed to be the turning point for them but... but now they're gone. Too far away to help, even if they wanted to which... I get the impression they don't."

As she'd said it, her eyes flicked towards the door again and this time it opened. Phil and Maria entered the room, neither of them able to quite hide their surprise at finding the three of them already in mid-discussion.

"Everything okay?" Maria asked since no one was volunteering that information.

"Captain Danvers here was just telling us all how we're going to die," Tony said, shaking his head as he walked towards the head of the table.

"There has to be something we can do," Steve said with faint optimism.

"Move to Asgard," Tony suggested wearily.

"Be serious," Steve admonished.

"I am."

"You can't be," Carol said sounding more than a little agitated. "Six of you fended off an entire alien force headed up by a demi-god. Without warning. Without planning. We know they're coming. That has to give us some kind of advantage. We have to do something."

"But we don't know when," Tony fired back at her. "We don't know how. We know nothing about their weapons, their attack modes. We have you and some of their leftover tech but otherwise we're completely in the dark."

"Then we have to find out," Carol said.

"How?" Tony nearly shouted.

"The Skrulls," Steve said, shutting his eyes briefly as he shook his head. When he opened them again, Carol was looking directly his way and nodding in agreement.

"No," Phil said, speaking up for the first time since entering the room. "Absolutely not. They can't be trusted."

"I'm not talking about trust," Carol argued. "We need their information. They've fought the Kree."

"And us," Tony added bitterly. After everything, he couldn't believe Carol of all people would be going there. "They've fought us. Have you -"

"I'm not in danger of forgetting what they are," Carol interrupted, her voice rising in anger as she squared her shoulders and shook her fist in his direction. "I know what they are! Even if I was capable of forgetting, they'd make sure to remind me. Wearing dead men like decoys and haunt-" Carol stopped abruptly, closing her mouth as she turned and walked several steps away from the table towards the corner of the room. After several long and silent minutes passed, she finally continued. "The Kree are coming," she said in a calm voice as she turned back to face the group. "That's the only thing that matters."

"No," Steve said with a brisk shake of his head, having gleaned enough information from her reaction to guess at the cause. "It's not the only thing that matters. We're not going to let them continue to torture you or anyone else. You should have said something. They can't be allowed to walk around wearing their victims as camouflage. That isn't right and won't continue, no matter how much we need their information."

"No, it's not right," she agreed, a slight edge to her voice as even now she couldn't quite meet Steve's eyes. She was still keyed up and afraid she'd start shouting again, only this time about how he was just as guilty. Part of her knowing that wasn't fair, but the other part not caring. He looked so much like her brother it hurt, but at least he couldn't help that. He wasn't doing it on purpose and he didn't know.

"The one we met?" Tony asked, looking around the room for confirmation and finding it in everyone's looks. They'd all known but him; even Maria it seemed. "You knew who that was?"

"I've already addressed it," Maria said, her eyes briefly on the floor before flicking in Carol's direction as if apologizing for even talking about the subject again. "The official stance is that as long as they aren't disguised as former agents, it's allowed."

Tony turned to Steve, pleased to see that at least he wasn't the only one completely out of the loop. Clearly Steve had only just reasoned this whole thing out, same as Tony. But Maria had to have been told earlier. Phil likely knew the entire time, if Tony was to judge on looks alone because Phil looked angry that they were even discussing it.

"It's fine," Carol said as the door opened again and Bruce, Bobbi and Natasha entered the room. "It is," she repeated, directing the words at Phil who seemed unconvinced. "Well, it's not really fine but... but it's not important. Maria was good enough to get me their real names so... so at least I can separate them in my head. Thank you for that."

Maria shook her head, eager to ward off any praise or thanks. It wasn't enough. After Maria had found Carol that day in the restroom, she'd waited for her and gotten the much of the story then and there. She'd wanted to do more, to really fix the situation, but that list she'd given Carol the night before of real names and faces of those that had died inside the cells had been the only thing she could offer.

It really wasn't enough.

"Where's Barton?" Tony asked, giving the new arrivals a once over before his eyes fell on Natasha to provide an answer.

"On his way," she said shortly as she crossed the room to take her seat.

Following her lead everyone else sat down at the table and a few minutes later Clint arrived. He hesitated for a half a step at the entrance, evidentially surprised to find he was the last one there, but he offered up no apologies or excuses. He walked in with his head up and sat down, waiting with the rest of them for the debrief to begin.

"I'd ask everyone to rate this one..." Tony started to say, but couldn't finish. "It's been brought to my attention that we really don't have the luxury of being angry or upset about what happened tonight, but... but, and I speak from many, many years of personal experience when I say that if we don't get out now it'll only be worse later. So let's talk about it. Let's get it out and in the open so... so we can move on. Who wants to start?"

"I brought my concerns to Barton," Carol began, seizing the opportunity ahead of Clint to speak first. She was as much to blame as he was, but had realized that the fallout from this situation would be worse for him than it would for her.

"No," Phil said with a shake of his head. "That's not true."

Carol sighed heavily as she rubbed her eyes before tucking her hair back behind her ears.

"Where would you like me to start then?" she asked sarcastically.

"With the truth," he returned.

"The truth," she repeated, looking him square in the eyes before pursing her lips and turning away again. "Fine. I initially asked Agent Coulson to arrange a scouting mission to the crash location. He said no. Is that enough? Can I continue?"

"I said no because I didn't think we needed to draw any more attention to you than was necessary. You told me," Phil continued, his own words steady and even, "that you believed that whatever it was the Skrulls were looking for was at that location."

"Okay, so because you said no you think this whole thing is your fault?" Carol fired back at him.

"You were right."

"But I went about it the wrong way," Carol countered.

"Carol came to me next," Clint interrupted, having a good enough idea at where this was going. "It was my idea to keep it a secret. If you're looking for someone to shoulder the blame, it's me."

"No," Carol said, shaking her head.

"Any one of us could have stopped it," Bruce said as he shook his head in agreement with Carol. "Any one of us could have said something earlier. We're all responsible."

"When exactly did the three of you just decide we didn't need to know?" Tony asked with his eyes on the table.

"We were never trying to keep you out of it," Clint sighed. "We just didn't want SHIELD in on it."

"So your next step was to tell a SHIELD agent?" Tony scoffed.

"I told Natasha," Clint said as if it made all the difference in the world. And to him, it did.

"Who at least had enough sense to give us a heads-up that you were all taking off," Tony snapped back at him. Clint didn't react to the news. He blinked, but he didn't react. Carol and Bruce, however, both turned with surprise to look at Natasha directly. "At least she didn't leave it to my AI to deliver the news," he continued. "Thanks for that."

"What do you want me to say?" Clint asked back at him, beginning to show his irritation. "I knew JARVIS would tell you. He's designed that way. I only asked him to wait. We were trying to give you cover incase it all went south. Some hard evidence you could point to that would keep you in the clear."

"Don't act like you were doing me a favor."

"You're right, I wasn't," Clint shrugged, his tone steadily indifferent again. "I was doing Carol a favor."

"You could have set all that up and still told us," Steve said, feeling like he had to step in and say something.

"Why ruin the surprise?" Clint asked having given up trying to explain.

"We didn't tell you because no one wanted to put you on the spot," Bruce added.

"We're supposed to be a team," Steve returned. "We're supposed to work together. That means you're never putting me or Tony or anyone on the spot. You're just asking for help."

"I don't need a lecture on teamwork," Bruce sighed, taking off his glasses and tossing them on the table.

"I kind of think you do," Steve said firmly.

"Fine, so tell me what would have happened if we had approached you?" Bruce asked, directing the question to both Steve and Tony.

"We'll never know," Tony said with cold indifference, "because instead of doing the right thing..."

"According to you," Bruce inserted.

"...the three of you decided to do whatever you wanted to do," Tony concluded. "Regardless of the outcome."

"It was wrong," Carol said loud enough to ensure their attention, shaking her head. "We're sorry."

"No, you're sorry," Tony corrected. "They're not."

"You're right, I'm not," Clint agreed, leaning back in his chair as he threw his hands up in the air. "I'd do it again tomorrow. Tonight, if it wasn't so late."

"I am sorry that you're taking this so personally," Bruce said, "but I'm not going to apologize for what I've done. I'd help anyone here who asks and keep it to myself as long as they wanted me to."

"This was a little more than someone asking for help," Tony said with a brutal shake of his head.

"It was dangerous," Steve agreed. "Dangerous and foolhardy. Keeping personal information personal is one thing, planning entire missions with only half the team is another. It's not acceptable."

"Maybe you should make a list of all the things we're allowed to do with and without permission," Clint suggested.

"For crying out loud," Carol muttered, momentarily shading her eyes.

"Maybe from now on you just go ahead and assume you need permission," Tony returned.

"Done," Clint said as if he didn't care one way or another. "How many people should I run it past first, since my judgment is obviously so poor? Just you? You and Steve?" he continued to push. "Or, would you rather I just keep telling Tasha everything and then she can tell you herself," he tacked on, glancing her way for the first time.

"I didn't tell them, I told Phil," Natasha replied coolly.

"Am I supposed to thank you for that?" Clint asked her, leaning back against the table.

"Yes," Phil answered, despite the fact that Clint hadn't address him directly. "You should, because she was doing it for your benefit."

"To give me cover," Clint said disbelievingly. "Sure. Whatever you say." Angry that Phil would try to use that as an excuse, when it was what Clint had being doing for Tony but that hadn't been deemed reasonable. "Romanoff and Morse can make those decisions, but I can't. Got it."

Bobbi looked momentarily surprised at being called out, but caught up quick enough.

"I should have said something when I found out," Bobbi admitted.

"But you trusted me when I told you why we needed to keep it under wraps," Clint added on, without any hint of annoyance or anger. He wasn't angry at Bobbi at all. "See what that gets you?"

"This isn't about us not trusting you," Steve said growing heated. "It's about you not trusting us. You should have told us, Clint. You should have at least given us the opportunity to prove that we are trustworthy."

"And instead of doing that you lied," Tony stated plainly. "You lied and manipulated and schemed behind our backs. Carol trusted your judgment. Bruce trusted your methods. Tasha trusted your reasoning, because like it or not, she didn't tell anyone soon enough to actually stop you from following through. And both Bobbi and Jane trusted your conclusions, because they didn't have to go with you, they chose to. They all believed you, trusted you, because you asked them to."

"This wasn't me drawing lines in the sand over who I trust," Clint snapped. "I didn't exclude you or Steve because I didn't trust you."

"No," Phil agreed as he looked pointedly at Clint. "That's not what this is at all."

"I'm done," Clint said getting abruptly to his feet, leaving the room without another word.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still haven't finished writing this... but I have enough to keep posting. Hopefully soon I'll be done. Thanks for the feedback - enjoy!

"Excuse me," Phil said, nodding crisply at Tony as he got to his feet and followed Clint out of the room.

This was out of hand.

Phil stepped into the elevator and asked JARVIS to direct him to wherever Clint had gone, not surprised when he was steered towards the roof. He found Clint standing near the edge, his fingers intertwined on the top of his head as he looked out over the cityscape, lit up with last light before sunrise.

Pausing, Phil took a breath before he approached. He didn't know what he was going to say but he knew something had to be done.

Clint was spiraling. 

It was a familiar cycle, if not an exhausting one. He would let people in, let them get close and then push them away just to see how they'd react. To see if they'd leave. Clint compulsively tested people, tested where the boundaries were and how much they'd take before cutting him loose. Phil understood on some level why he did it, but it didn't make it any easier to handle. So many people had abandoned Clint when they'd gotten angry or upset or sometimes even bored with him that he just sometimes acted out; he made them angry just to see what they'd do.

Clint had personally pulled this stunt, or something close enough to it, on Phil so many times he'd lost count.

"You have to tell me what's wrong," Phil said clearly, his eyes fixed on the back of Clint's neck. "You have to let me help you."

For a moment Clint didn't move, didn't react, but slowly Phil watched as the other man dragged his hands down over his face and bent at the waist briefly before standing upright again.

"I don't need help."

"Yes, you do," Phil said, his voice even and as neutral as possible.

"Not this time."

"Every time, Clint," he reiterated. "I will help you every time I can. I can't promise to solve all your problems, but I will help you work through them."

"Work through them," Clint repeated back to him quietly, shaking his head and laughing bitterly as he turned to face him. "I've tried and... and that's just not going to be an option this time."

"Is this about Loki?"

"No," Clint said quick enough that Phil almost believed him. "It's... It's just personal."

"Personal," Phil said as if the word was foreign.

"Yes, as in mine," Clint suddenly snapped. "My problem. Me. I'm -"

He stopped and turned his back on Phil again, staring out at the city below.

"You had to realize Natasha was going to tell me," Phil tried again after a few moments mulling things over. Phil knew it couldn't be that because, as far as he could tell, whatever had been bothering Clint was something a long time coming. At least since they'd both been back from the dead. Maybe even before then.

"I was hoping she wouldn't," Clint said curtly.

"But you weren't surprised."

"No."

"Okay," Phil shrugged, watching the line of Clint's shoulders sink lower and lower. "Is this about your brother?"

There was another long pause before Clint shook his head and said, "No, but he did get in touch with me. Sent me a text the other day, after the press release. Didn't say much, just that he'd thought I was dead. He's probably thrilled he's still got a shot at me," he finished with a harsh laugh. "That he still has a chance to kill me himself."

"You should have mentioned that sooner," Phil said in a slightly admonishing tone as he walked up and joined Clint at the edge of the building.

"Why? He's no genius, but Barney knows enough to use a burner cell when he contacts me," Clint said as if unbothered. "If I tell anyone he called it would just be a hassle. Tony would probably crank up security to threat level nuclear. Natasha would start tracing my lines again. For my own good. Bruce would get tense. Steve would try to give me some inane pep talk and Pepper... Pepper would worry and she's got enough to worry about without adding me to the list. He's already tried the Tower. Barney won't be back."

Phil looked at Clint and blinked back his surprise. Clint had never been able to talk about his brother with so much indifference in his voice. It was almost enough to make him think that he'd finally hit upon the actual problem. That the other man was overcompensating to throw him off track. That there really was some recurring problem with Barney that had surfaced since New York that Clint did not want Phil or anyone else to know about.

It made sense.

And Phil would have believed all that, but he knew Clint better. 

This was just another attempt to shut Phil out. Clint was dropping him a story, probably mostly true, as a way to throw him off the real issue.

"Last chance," Phil said softly.

Clint shook his head, tipping it just enough to look Phil in the eyes.

"Not buying that one?"

"No."

"Phil," Clint said, the word a weary sigh, "if I thought there was anything... There's nothing you can do, okay? This whole thing, everything since New York has been such a ride. I couldn't stay at SHIELD without you and I didn't know how to just be a person. Being a part of this team has been one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I don't want to jeopardize it. I really don't."

"You push."

"I know," he said and the more he talked the more dejected he sounded. "I don't want to but I do it anyway."

"Why, Clint? What did you hope to accomplish?"

"I did want to help Carol."

"And I can appreciate that," Phil said with a firm nod, "but you could have gone about it in a different way. Why?"

"I guess... I guess I had to prove that I could. That I was capable and... and that everyone knew it." When Phil didn't know what to say, when he couldn't respond Clint continued, "It didn't exactly work out that way."

"Why?" Phil asked, genuinely perplexed. 

Clint had a lot of issues, but none of them revolved around what he was and was not capable of. Clint knew he was good, that he was the best at what he did. It was never something he'd doubted but it brought to mind a conversation Phil had recently. The last time Clint had lashed out at Phil, he'd done it via Carol and the two of them had had a long talk afterwards. Carol thought then that Clint might have some kind of self-esteem or self-worth problem, but Phil had dismissed it out of hand.

Now he wasn't quite so certain.

"Because I do stupid things," Clint shrugged. "I don't know."

"I think you do," Phil pushed and Clint stared at him hard as if contemplating his next words.

And he was.

Clint looked at Phil and froze. On the outside he was steady and calm but inside he was a riot of nerves. He was past the point of avoiding the issue. He couldn't avoid it anymore. The problem was literally buzzing in his ears.

It had started small. One of those things he meant to get checked, but never did because he was afraid of what it really meant. A problem he'd first experienced after New York when Loki had him blasted first into a wall and then later when he crashed himself through a window, rattling his head harder than he'd meant to. Something he'd hoped would go away but never did. It hadn't always been bad, it hadn't always been annoying. But it had gotten worse. There wasn't a time Clint couldn't recall over the past several months since he'd again slammed his head, this time during their escape from those cells, hard enough inside the jet to see stars that his ears hadn't bothered him in some fashion or another.

And then he went and did it again, smacked his head good enough to knock himself out cold earlier that night.

Since then it was markedly worse. As if the volume on the world around him had been turned down.

He'd kept his comm link in, set it to amplify, and cranked it up to high but it was barely enough to make up the difference.

Clint knew he was past the point where something had to be done, but until he knew how everyone around him would react he felt paralyzed. Of course he'd never know for certain how they'd react until he told them and so he was stuck. Clint felt suspended by fear and doubt and he didn't know what to do.

"Clint?" Phil repeated, still waiting patiently at his side for some kind of response.

He turned to him and it was on the tip of his tongue. The words were all right there, waiting to be said, but instead of speaking Clint just shut his mouth tight and shook his head.

He couldn't break free.

*****

After Phil had followed Clint out of the meeting there seemed little point in anyone else staying. Carol and Bruce left at nearly the same time followed shortly by Bobbi. Maria and Steve were heading towards the door with Natasha lingering behind when Tony finally spoke up.

"Don't think you're off the hook."

Maria's shoulders tensed for a second, her back still to the scene as she sped up her steps, but Steve quickly reached out and stopped her with a touch on her elbow. With a look and a shake of his head, Maria paused as Steve turned around and stood his ground. Steve knew better than Maria that if Tony had wanted this to be a private conversation between himself and Natasha, he'd have waited half a second longer for them to be alone.

Natasha didn't respond, just continued sitting quietly in her chair giving Tony a look that spoke volumes of her cool indifference.

"You could have told us sooner," Tony pushed.

"I didn't tell you at all," Natasha supplied with a subtle lift of her shoulders.

"Of course you didn't."

"Because he was right."

"If he was so right, why tell Phil?" Tony asked as he folded his arms over his chest. "Why bother? You didn't tell us, true, but what did you think Phil would do? You knew JARVIS was going to notify me eventually, so what was the point? Who were you covering? Oh, that's right. You were covering yourself. Must be nice to be able to play both sides."

"Phil was backup," Natasha scowled.

"Backup for what?" Steve asked, no longer able to keep out of the conversation.

"That's a crock of shit," Tony dismissed before Natasha had the chance to answer. "You didn't need backup. You had most of the team there. She's lying," he finished, addressing Steve and Maria directly. "Again. I don't even know why I'm surprised."

"You were expecting trouble?" Maria asked Natasha, the wheels in her head turning.

"I always expect trouble."

"Well, you got it," Tony shrugged. He was exhausted. He felt completely drained by the situation, but at the same time he was unable to concentrate on anything else.

"This isn't..." Natasha said, stopping long enough to shake her head and gather her thoughts again. "I told Phil because I knew I could. It's an old habit. I didn't do it for my benefit or to make myself look good. The team needed to know, but SHIELD did not. That's all there is to it." 

Tony listened to her but found it hard to believe. Still, he let out a long held breath and nodded, ready to be done with it. He wanted to move on. He wanted to believe that, by their own twisted logic, they'd all been doing the right thing.

Natasha returned the gesture and left without saying more.

"It wasn't personal," Steve said after a lengthy pause.

"It was," Tony disagreed, dropping his guard and letting his disappointment seep through. "They just didn't realize it."

"It's how they operate," Maria supplied. "In SHIELD, as operatives and assets," she explained, leaning against the table and feeling as worn down as Tony looked. "It's just how they operate. Both Barton and Romanoff have always been given free rein to accomplish missions in any way they deemed reasonable. Of course reasonable for the two of them is... is somewhat slanted for anyone else, but it worked. Coulson is the only one they've always shared their plans with, separately or together. Training like that is hard to disregard."

"Okay, so... so they work through Agent," Tony said, trying not to feel hurt by that; it made absolute sense. "As long as Phil keeps us up to date on what they're up to I guess... I guess we can still make this work."

"No," Steve said, arms folded over his chest as he shook his head. "That might work if they were working together, but they're not."

"They planned this," Tony insisted.

"Clint planned this," Steve said, correcting the assumption. "He didn't tell Phil and next time he won't tell Tasha. He set up JARVIS to inform you well after the fact, but still within a timeframe that if they needed help, we could be there. Natasha moved up that timeline expecting problems. And then, with a whole army of Sentries bearing down on them, what does she do?"

"She sent him away," Maria answered quietly.

"Has she ever done that before?" Steve asked, having a good guess as to what the answer would be.

"No," Maria said shaking her head. "Never."

"Jane was there," Tony reasoned, although it felt like a stretch.

"The Sentries were interested in two things: destroying that outpost and Danvers," Steve said, waving off the argument. "They let the jet pass by without incident. They could have protected Jane on the ground."

"So what exactly are we getting at here?" Tony questioned, his thoughts running wild with possibilities.

"I'm not certain," Steve said and he meant it. Something was clearly off, not just between Natasha and Clint, but also between Phil and Clint. More worrisome was the fact that no one had picked up on it until now.

"Neither am I and I'm exhausted," Tony said as he stretched into a yawn. "We'll worry about it tomorrow. I still need to talk to Clint. We need to talk to him," he stressed.

"You're the leader," Steve said with a sly grin.

"Why did I agree to that again?"

"Because you'd never agree to anything else," Steve returned.

"I am good," Tony smiled. "Except for the fact that seventy-five percent of the team all but called me useless."

"Closer to sixty," Steve shrugged. "Thor's not here."

"Pretty and smart," Tony laughed, clapping Steve on the shoulder briefly as he passed by. "He's a keeper, Hill."

"Goodnight, Tony," they called out in near unison.

He responded with a wave, smiling as the doors on the elevator shut. But as soon as they had shut, the smile faded.


	21. Chapter 21

When the sun finally did rise the next morning no one felt rested. Everyone had more or less retreated to their own quarters for the remainder of the night and didn't meet again until Director Fury arrived. He wasted no time. He spoke first with Maria, then Phil and finally Tony, each in private and one-on-one.

Fury listened to their version of events, taking them at their word, and then asked that the entire team be assembled.

One by one they all trickled back into the conference room as he glowered down on them. Maria and Phil stood on either side of him, heads held high and apparently unflappable, but Tony couldn't help but grin. It wasn't a happy grin, it was bluster and nerves. He had no idea what was going to happen next and he hated being caught unaware. He hated the sense of failure that seemed to permeate the room. Tony hated uncertainty and doubt, and he hated that he felt like the cause of it all. That sense that had there been better leadership, all of this could have been avoided.

The only thing he was certain of now was that something had to be done and he didn't even know what could be done, let alone what should be done.

"The Council wants someone to be held accountable," Fury said as his gaze swept the room.

"This was all because of me," Carol said with firm resolution, even as Phil shook his head subtly at her words. "I'll answer for it."

"You didn't know what you were getting into," Clint said, realizing she might not even know what she was getting into now. "I did. If the Council wants someone, they can have me."

"No," Carol said, shaking her head and looking irritated. "You only did this because I asked."

"You never asked," Clint corrected. "I offered. Let it go, Carol. I've got this one."

"Enough," Tony sighed as he rubbed his hands over his face. "Enough noble acts already. I'm the leader. Ultimately, this is on me. If the Council wants to talk to someone, they'll talk to me."

"They don't want to talk, Tony," Clint blurted out, earning surprised stares from half the room.

But not from Fury.

"No, they do not," the Director agreed. "And I can't exactly offer up Tony Stark. Not for this. Too much visibility."

"What do they want?" Tony asked.

"Danvers," Fury answered honestly. "They want Captain Danvers. Life would be easier for them if you weren't around. Too many questions to answer. Too many demands being made. But, they'd settle for Barton."

Clint nodded grimly. This was nothing new. The Council had been after him since New York. They'd wanted to hold him solely accountable for the damages to the Helicarrier and the security breach, more so since Loki had been spirited away to Asgard, and only Fury and Hill combined had kept them from it. It was just one more reason why his actions really had been stupid and reckless, like Phil had said. Like Natasha was likely to say when they finally started speaking again. He should have known better. Once again, he hadn't completely thought things through.

Maybe the shrink he refused to listen to had a point after all. Maybe he was self-destructive.

"They can't do this," Steve said quietly, trying to push down his own anger and breaking into the uneasy silence that had filled the room.

"No," Tony said, catching his words and nodding in agreement. "They can't. And they won't. If they think I'm just handing over any -"

"No one is going anywhere," Fury interrupted, slightly disappointed that they ever assumed he was entertaining the idea. "Was I born yesterday? Do I look stupid to you? I'm not giving them Danvers. They'd hand her over to the Skrulls for a promise and a prayer," he said shaking his head. "And after all the shit I waded through to keep your ass out of the Raft," he continued, pointing a finger at Clint, "if you think you can just turn yourself in now - no. You can't. You owe me and I'm going to collect."

"Yes, sir," Clint answered, dropping his eyes for a moment as he twisted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Fortunate for us," Fury continued, lingering long enough on Clint to make his point, "some of them can still be reasoned with, but I can't guarantee for how long. My suggestion," he stressed in the only the way he could, "is that until we can say beyond any certainty that the Skrulls are acting against us, that we continue not to openly work against them. I do not want another phone call like the one I had last night. They will shut you down. Lock all of you up. They think they own you, don't make them prove it."

Tony realized, a little late, that Fury was expecting a response from him, so he gave him a nod.

"Good," Fury barked. "Romanoff. Morse."

He didn't say more, just turned to go. Natasha and Bobbi both knew enough to go along. They exited after Fury, followed quickly by Phil and Maria.

"I don't know where to go from here," Tony said with abnormal stillness as he continued to look at the table uncertainly.

"I was out of line," Clint said, even if the words were a bit forced they were clearly well meant. "I shouldn't have gone about any of this the way I did. I am sorry and I won't do it again," he finished.

Steve dipped his head, accepting the apology. Knowing it was partly directed at him. Waiting a moment, tipping his head towards Tony to see how he'd react and surprised by the completely blank stare on the other man's face.

Carol had apologized. Bruce had too, in his own way. Tony had to be expecting Clint to do the same, but his reaction...

Finally, Tony simply shrugged.

"Doesn't matter," he commented with complete indifference.

Steve understood. 

He really did understand why Tony was still angry. He saw that this was just that, his anger getting the better of him. Steve knew Tony, and he knew Tony was never intentionally mean. Not intentionally.

But this...

But this was a calculated and cruel dismissal, and Clint was completely aware of it.

This was not going to end well.

"So that's it?" Clint asked, raising his voice and evening out his tone.

"Why wouldn't it be," Tony returned with a smirk. "You said you were sorry, right? What else is there?"

"Is sorry not enough?" Clint pressed.

"Sure. Sorry is fine. Whatever."

"Whatever," Clint repeated almost to himself as his whole countenance grew even more serious. He'd been expecting this kind of reaction, part of Clint would always be expecting this kind of reaction, but he hadn't really been prepared for it.

"It doesn't matter, Barton," Tony continued, getting to his feet as the anger he felt began to seep into his voice. "You're sorry. You're not sorry. It's all pretty meaningless coming from you."

"Think what you like," Clint said, slouching further into his chair as he looked away.

"I will, thank you," Tony smiled. "Do you want to know what else I think?"

"Has the word no ever stopped you?" Clint asked as he still stared off in the opposite direction.

"I think you'll be gone by tomorrow," Tony answered. "I think you'll slink out of here in the middle of the night without so much as a word to anyone like a coward."

"Is that supposed to piss me off?" Clint returned with a genuine laugh, swiveling in his chair again to face him. "Coward? I'm a fucking sniper. I shoot people from as far away as I possibly can. Coward is the go-to insult. I thought you'd have something better than that stored up in your gigantic brain."

"Oh, no," Tony said, shaking his head and still grinning back as if they were having a friendly discussion. "I wasn't commenting on your fighting style, more like your life style. How you handle your entire life. It's cowardly."

Steve and Carol stood up almost as soon as Clint did. Without speaking, there was no need for any more words at the moment, they each moved in separate directions. Carol caught Clint with an arm across the chest and Steve took hold of Tony by the arm. Bruce, unsure what to do, simply pushed his chair back from the table and distanced himself as much as possible from what was increasingly looking like what would become an actual, physical fight.

"Let's go," Carol said, turning Clint easily enough and ready to escort him out of the room before he ripped Tony in half. 

She'd tugged and pushed him nearly through the door when...

"I take it back," Tony exclaimed as he yanked his arm free from Steve's grip, halting Clint's reluctant progress through the door. "You won't sneak off at night. That's too direct. You'll wait for me to kick you out. That's how you operate. You want me to be your excuse."

"Enough," Steve said in a low growl, making certain he was still partially blocking Tony's path to Clint and vice versa.

"I used to think Natasha was the one I'd have to keep an eye on," Tony continued undeterred. "That she'd be the one constantly plotting or scheming behind my back. But it's you, isn't it? You're the one who will do whatever you want and whatever it takes for your own good. You're a selfish, coward without an ounce of loyalty to anyone but yourself. You've been using me and everyone around you, because that's what you do. That is who you are to the core."

Clint turned fast on his heels, ducked easily under Carol's outstretched arm and was halfway across the room before she caught him again.

"No," she said sharply in his ear as she pulled him back. "Walk away." It took a few moments to physically turn him back around, Carol was strong enough but she didn't want to hurt him. Eventually he relented and walked with her.

"Go," Tony said with false cheer to their retreating forms. "It's what you've been trying to do since you got here. It's what you do. Runaway again. But I have to know, what's wrong now? What is it, Clint? What happened? What's scared you so badly that you've finally put your little plan in action?"

"You're delusional," Clint said as he spun back around. "There's no plan."

"Of course there's a plan," Tony scoffed. "Things get too real and you can't take it. Time to leave. Again."

"Go to hell," Clint spat back at him, having heard more than enough and ready to get out of there.

"I talked to Phil," Tony said and Clint instantly went still. "Yeah," he assured him after a lengthy pause. "We had a nice long chat last night, after his talk with you. We talked about everything I need to know about working with you. Step-by-step instructions. All your little quirks and idiosyncrasies. How much you enjoy testing people and pushing limits. He told me everything. It was all very enlightening."

Carol loosened her grip on Clint, not certain how to respond. He was no longer struggling to get at Tony, or out the door, Clint was completely motionless. He turned and fixed his eyes Tony as if he was trying to decipher some kind of cryptic clue. Like he didn't believe what he was hearing or seeing. Steve, also sensing a change in the situation, took half a step back, finally giving Tony some space.

"This is what's going to happen," Tony said seriously. "I don't care how SHIELD let you operate. We're not SHIELD. I don't care what Phil let you get away with. He's got way more patience than I'll ever have and we don't have time to waste. I know there's something wrong. Phil's concerned. Natasha's concerned. Running away, pushing away from them, from us, isn't going to fix it. Hiding from us, from it -whatever the hell it is, from everyone, isn't going to fix it. You have two options. You can tell me or you can go. That's it. We have to make this work and it can't work if you are constantly looking for an escape route. It can't work if you are constantly looking to get disappointed. If you set out looking for disappointment, Clint, guess what? That's all you're ever going to find."

"You can't fix everything, Tony," Clint returned, so softly it was nearly a whisper.

"Well, I can't fix anything if I don't know the problem."

Clint looked him in the eye, nodded, and then left the room without saying more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is the last time I end a chapter with someone leaving the room. Answer from here on out (well, mostly!)... Only a few chapters left. Thanks!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the comments and kudos!

"That went better than I thought it would," Tony said to the room not long after the door shut.

"You planned this?" Steve asked, wheeling on Tony accusingly.

"I should have let him kick your ass," Carol said, taking three quick strides across the room towards where he stood.

"You can't do that to people," Bruce added, speaking for the first time since the encounter began. "Tony, that's not how normal people behave."

"Relax," Tony sighed, shaking his head at the three of them. "I know what I'm doing."

"If what you're doing is pissing off a man who knows a hundred ways to kill you in your sleep," Bruce returned, "then yes. Yes, you know exactly what you're doing."

"Is this how you operate?" Carol asked, her eyes flitting briefly to Steve before she refocused on Bruce. "Is every reprimand public around here?"

"Yes," Bruce answered with disdain. "Unfortunately."

"I had to shake him up or else he wouldn't listen," Tony said, still shrugging off their concerns. 

"Shake him up or run him off?" Carol asked.

"He's not leaving," Steve answered with certainty, not entirely on Tony's side yet, but seeing his point. "He's considering his options."

"Yep," Tony agreed. "And now that everyone knows there's something wrong with him, he'll have to come clean."

"You're sure about that?" Carol asked with clear skepticism.

"That isn't fair, Tony," Bruce said, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You can't do that."

"Sure I can," Tony returned. "I just did."

"No, Tony, you can't," Bruce fired back at him. Stopping and taking a deep breath before he continued. "You can't keep prying into other people's business. Whatever you think is wrong with him, it hasn't affected how he works. Clint is still doing his job, whether you like how he gets it done or not. You have no justification in doing this. It isn't right."

"I have every right," Tony argued, "because it is affecting this team."

"It's only affecting the team because you won't let it go," Bruce said, shaking his head once more.

"Doesn't matter."

"It does," Bruce said, stopping again to take another deep breath.

"Okay, fine," Tony sighed. "Take the whole team aspect out of it. Throw that away, and you know what? I'm still not sorry. Yeah, I don't enjoy pissing people off. Everyone here might think I do, but I don't. Not people I like. Not my friends. And because Clint is my friend, I will push. He needs help and he's not going to ask for it, or do anything about it until someone makes him. So I will make him. And if he hates me for it, then he hates me for it. It still has to be done. That's all there is to it. I would do the same for each of you. To each of you. That's who I am. If you don't like that, or if that makes you uncomfortable, then I don't know what to tell you."

"I understand your intentions," Bruce began.

"You just hate my execution," Tony tacked on. "Yes, Bruce, I know. But if you can tell me another way to get Barton to listen to anything he doesn't want to hear, I'm more than willing to hear you out."

"I don't know," Bruce admitted, "but I don't like this."

"I realize that," Tony relented. "And don't worry, I'd never pull it on you. Because I like living. And it wouldn't work."

"What do you think would work on me?" Bruce asked with some concern.

Tony just smiled broadly and kept his mouth shut. That was going to be his little secret, one he hoped he'd never need to use.

*****

Clint first went back to his quarters but as soon as he shut the door he realized he couldn't rest. He'd gotten no sleep, was exhausted, but he could not settle his nerves. He needed to be moving. He needed to keep doing anything because if he sat and thought through everything he might come undone.

For a little more than an hour, he simply walked.

Clint walked up and down the hallways of the Tower. He went everywhere and anywhere he assumed no one else would be. He roamed freely, letting his mind wander until he ended up outside of Tony's office before he stopped.

"Good morning."

Clint turned away from the door he'd been staring at and gave Pepper a halfhearted smile.

"He's not in there," she said, motioning towards the office.

"Yeah, I figured," he said with a shrug, forcing himself to make eye contact. "Guess I was hoping..."

"I could call him," Pepper offered, giving Clint a subtle once over. He looked a mess. She didn't know everything about last night, but enough. She knew enough to simultaneously be a little angry and a little sad for Clint. "If you needed to talk. He's in his workshop but that's not exactly private."

"It's a glass box," Clint agreed with a slight laugh.

"He likes to be on display," Pepper grinned back at him. "Do you want me to get him?"

"Please," Clint said with a nod.

"Go on in," Pepper urged, motioning back towards the door. "He shouldn't be long."

"Thank you," Clint returned, opening the door and after hesitating, he chose to sit in one of the plush chairs in front of Tony's desk.

After a moment more, he took out his phone. If he was going to do this, and Clint really had decided he was, he might as well do it right. In that spirit, he tapped out a quick text to Phil and then relaxed as much as possible into the chair.

Tony arrived first.

Clint saw the door open in the reflection of the window and turned in his seat. Tony gave him a brief nod and then moved to take his own place behind the desk.

"You've made your decision," Tony stated.

"Phil's coming," Clint said, looking back at the door and Tony understood.

Clint only planned on saying it once.

The two of them waited in near silence. Clint didn't think Tony was capable of sitting so completely still, but he'd underestimated him. Tony sat the entire time, alternating staring out the window and at the door.

Phil tapped once on the door before entering. Quickly taking in the scene, he sat down in the chair next to Clint's own without a word. As he did, Tony refocused on Clint, ready to begin.

"You told him about San Simeon?" Clint asked Phil. "Reykjavik?"

"We've discussed your habit of volunteering for missions while injured," Phil returned with a crisp nod. "Yes."

"Milan?" Clint continued ask and wasn't surprised to see Phil nod.

It's exactly what he'd assumed.

"That's the one where you didn't so much volunteer as you just left to do it," Tony added. "Left the safe house, despite being told explicitly not to, in order to rescue those hostages. Which you did, but then ended up out of commission for how long?"

"Three months," Phil answered. "Because he failed to report he'd been shot."

"It was a graze," Clint said softly.

"The one during the rescue was a graze," Phil corrected. "The one to the leg happened beforehand. Which was why you'd been ordered not to go in."

"So, you know now that I do stupid things," Clint shrugged without any embarrassment.

"No, I know now that you hide your injuries," Tony said with conviction.

"It's not..." Clint started to say, but trailed off with the realization that there was no way to avoid it any longer before trying again. "Yes, I've done that. I do that. I don't... I don't want to be benched. I want to do this and... and I know what happens when you can't pull your own weight, okay? I know what happens to people when they stop being useful so I guess I just wanted you to see that I can do this. I can still do this."

"I know that," Tony said confused as to why Clint would even assume he thought otherwise. No one had ever questioned he place on the team. Tony saw everyone as valuable, contributing members. Everyone brought unique skills and talents; he'd thought that went without saying.

"You say that..." Clint stammered, twisting in his seat before finally standing and pacing the room. "That's not how the world works. Not my world. That's not reality. That's pretend and all well and fine in the beginning... You're useful or you're left behind. That's truth. I went after those hostages in Milan because it was my job to do it. It wasn't my job to complain or make excuses," he finished, casting around the room but afraid to let his eyes linger too long on either Tony or Phil. Debating for half a second before deciding he might as well go all in if he really wanted them to see it from his point of view, because clearly they did not. "It's why I didn't tell you I had pneumonia in Iceland, Phil. You don't need to worry about me, you just needed the job done. I know what happens... I broke my hand once in the circus. It was stupid, my fault - how it happened really didn't matter. Barney dropped me off at a clinic to get it checked out and by the time I got out of there, they were gone. Everyone. They'd left for the next town and... and it happened again when I broke my legs, so... so you can say whatever you like but I know..."

"I know, early on with SHIELD things were said," Phil said, shaking his head, "but you couldn't believe I would allow -"

"You were gone, Phil," Clint interrupted.

"And you couldn't stay."

"Not without you there," Clint said with a firm nod in agreement. "Not with everything that was going on."

"Okay, I'm getting a better idea as to why you left SHIELD," Tony said in earnest, "but I still don't understand what's happening now."

"I needed you to see that I can still do this," Clint sighed as he dropped back into his chair, quickly covering his eyes with his hands. "I don't want to be sidelined because..."

"Listen," Tony said after a minute or two of contemplation, "you, me and Bobbi... we're in a unique situation here. We're the most vulnerable parts of the team and we have to rely on the others, and each other, a little more than the rest. I know it, even if I don't like to think about it or talk about it. That is just how it is. And, hey, at least I'm going out there with some kind of protection. You're just..." he said, trailing off as he waved his hands. "Clint," Tony continued after a pause, "we need to be upfront with each other and if you can't do something, if you're hurt, or hell, you just don't think you should do it, tell me. Tell me. It's not like I'm going to throw you out for saying no. I want to hear no. Being here is a choice."

"It's a privilege," Clint objected.

"That's debatable," Tony said with a faint smile. "But I will never make you do something can't -"

"But I can," he interrupted loudly. 

"Shouldn't then," Tony amended. "Something you shouldn't, because sometimes you have to take a time out. I promise you, I won't penalize you for it. Neither of us are self-regenerating demi-gods, Clint. I know my limits and I have to trust you to know yours, but right now I can't. I can't trust that you'll say 'enough' when you have to and... and I want to but... If you're worried that I'm going to kick you off the team, don't be. I won't do that. I don't throw people out of my life because they're no longer useful to me. I know what that's like. I know what it's like to be used up and tossed aside, Clint, trust me. I do. And whatever this is that's going on, we'll find a way to make it work."

"Okay," Clint said quietly, covering his face as he nodded his head. "Yes. Something... I have a problem."

"For how long now?" Phil asked.

"I didn't notice..." he began, stopping to collect himself again before starting over. "After New York I lied to medical. They cleared me because they always clear me and they never expect real answers from me in the first place. They take x-rays and if those are good, I'm good. We're old friends that way," he said with a faint smile at Phil, earning one in return. "I hoped it wasn't really a problem; that it would go away, and it did, at first. Sometimes it would flair up but it always went away again and then Barney busted in here. At the time I chose to focus on my collar bone, to make a big stink about it and being back in medical, because I knew then that my shoulder wasn't bad, but my other problem was serious and I didn't want anyone to pry. Then, well, then I died and it felt normal." Clint paused, shaking his head at the looks he received. "Not normal - normal, but... it wasn't an issue in the cells. Nothing was a bigger issue than those cells and getting out of them. And when we did I got tossed around good again and it all came back. Since then it's been constant. Every day. Some days have been bad, some not-so-bad. And I knew I'd have to do something about it but... but I wanted to be certain you knew I could still be useful, so when Carol told me about the crash site and all of that I jumped at the chance. I thought it would be easy and we'd be in and out, and back, and then I could get it checked. Then I could relax and check it out but that didn't happen. Instead I hit my damn head again and..."

Clint sighed before taking a moment to pull out the comm piece still in his ear.

"I asked you to check the gear," Clint said as he tossed the equipment up on to Tony's desk. "Said mine wasn't working right about a week ago, right?"

"Static," Tony said with a puzzled nod.

"It was fine," Clint admitted. "Or, I imagine it was fine for anyone else. For me it just wasn't enough. It wasn't loud enough, because I couldn't hear it. I've had headaches and have been sick to my stomach. The whole world sometimes just feels tilted and wrong but mostly my ears have buzzed and hummed and I can hardly hear anything anymore. I don't know what to do about it, and I should have done something a long time ago but... but that doesn't matter any longer because I can hardly hear right now. I waited too long. Did this to myself. I can't hear anything."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a short chapter, I'm sorry! But I'm not that sorry because we're getting a Captain Marvel movie!!! That's really all I've got. Nearly done now... Enjoy!

Pepper made all the immediate arrangements.

Clint agreed, mostly because he was past the point of not being able to disagree, and just asked if they would keep it quiet for now. He wanted to know exactly how bad it was before he had to tell anyone else. Tony couldn't argue with that, offered to come along to the appointment, and to Phil's surprise, Clint accepted.

After seeing them off, in comparatively good spirits, Phil didn't know how he was going to pass the time. He was worried and knew it was going to be a long day. He was a lot more worried than he'd ever let on, but was relieved that Clint was finally confronting the issue. That he'd found a place, and more importantly friends like Tony, who wouldn't let him get away with his usual antics, who would stand by and support Clint the way he needed.

Heading down to the lab Phil he wasn't surprised to find the usual occupants all in place. Bruce, Jane and Bobbi were all hovering around a single display, intently looking over the material onscreen, to the point where they didn't notice he'd arrived.

"Anything good?" he asked, startling the group.

"Check this out," Jane said with a grin, urging him closer and blowing up the image before manipulating the layers to retrieve the exact view she wanted. "This is... it's insane. It's a whole separate cortex. A new part of the brain. The readings are off the charts. This has to be how she flies."

"This is Carol?" Phil asked, leaning in closer for a better look.

"Considering how hard she hit her head last night, I thought it best if she did a new scan," Bruce explained. 

"Do you suppose this means all Kree can fly?" Bobbi asked, trying to wrap her head around the whole thing. 

"Probably," Bruce and Jane answered as one.

"And this is all new?" Phil continued to question. "She showed no signs of this... lesion before?"

"It's not a lesion," Bruce said shaking his head. "It's like Jane said, a new part of her brain. This wasn't on the last scan."

"Is it causing problems?"

"None we can see," Bobbi answered.

"Nothing around this new area seems damaged," Bruce added, "only slightly displaced."

"I've got a big head," Carol said as she reemerged from the restroom, having changed out of the scrubs she'd worn for the scan.

"Lucky thing," Bruce smiled. "Everything not alien seems normal. We should probably do some basic memory tests, run a few more diagnostics, but it looks good. Still, might want to take it easy a few days."

"Will do, Doc," Carol returned. "I'll try to not piss off another robot armada for at least a week."

"Speaking of that," Bruce said, still smiling as he shook his head at her ruefully, "Jane and I were discussing some of the other artifacts we think are Kree."

"We haven't gotten anywhere with them and now we're assuming it is because they're coded to Kree DNA," Jane picked up as she pulled up new images of some of the smaller machinery they were talking about. "We were hoping you might help."

"Yeah," Carol said slowly, "I don't know about that. Last time I touched one of those..."

"It was a communicator," Jane reasoned. "That portal was designed to transmit messages. Damn," she muttered, "I wish it hadn't been smashed."

"I'm following you," Carol said as she shifted her eyes between Jane and Bruce, ignoring that last outburst, "I just don't know how you can be certain that none of those are communicators, too. Do you want to take that gamble?"

"We may not have a choice," Phil surmised," but activating any of these devices before we're certain what they are should be a last resort."

"Got it," Jane said with a nod, and both Bruce and Bobbi seemed satisfied as well.

"Do you need anything else from me?" Carol asked.

"Not right now," Bruce answered, "but if you could stop by later?"

"Of course," she answered before turning to Phil. "Heading up?"

Phil nodded in the affirmative and despite having just arrived, walked back to the elevator with Carol.

"Are we okay?" Carol asked as soon as the doors slid shut, casting him an apprehensive look as she hit the button for the communal floor.

"We are," Phil answered, clasping his hands to the front and smiling slightly.

"I didn't know it would be like this," Carol sighed, dropping her shoulders and letting down her guard in a way she only did around Phil. "If I had any clue, Bug, believe me I would have said no."

"You would have?"

"I would have considered saying no," she admitted with an embarrassed grin.

"It was important to you."

"It was."

"I'm sorry I didn't help."

"You've helped me plenty," Carol said as the doors opened. "I understand why you wouldn't now. You were right."

"Is this the part where I tell you that you were right, too?"

"Well..." she said, dragging the word out as she turned and smiled.

"You were right, too," he said with a small laugh. "So maybe next time we consult one another and that way we can be right together."

"I suppose," Carol said as she slunk into the couch. "Have you talked with Ace?"

"Yes," Phil said shortly, sitting down beside her.

"He isn't packing, is he?"

"No."

"Good," Carol she said sounding relieved. "He's okay?"

"I think he will be."

"Good," she repeated, titling her head back as she shut her eyes only to have them startled open again by the appearance of Misty, Jasper's cat. "Hey, there," Carol laughed as she rubbed her back. "I miss my cat, but you're all right."

"Now might not be the best time to ask, but I don't think Tony would have a problem with you bringing your cat here if you wanted to," Phil suggested.

"Well, I do plan on limiting my favor-asking," Carol agreed, "but she's probably better off with my parents. Michael told me she catches mice in the basement."

"Your brother is doing well?"

"Better than the rest of my family," she said with a dry laugh. "He has another year at Saint John's and then he takes his vows and... and after that my mom won't know how to feel because, while she loves the idea of Michael becoming a priest, she knows he was her last chance at grandchildren."

"You don't know that. Not for certain."

"I do," Carol said, shaking off the emotion before it could fully form. "I never thought about having a family. And now, even if that was what I wanted, I'm not sure it would be smart. And no one thinks it's even possible. Not with this life or these genes. Still... it was something my mom was looking forward to, and my dad; just one more reason why I'm not the daughter they wanted."

"We can't always live the life our parents want us to."

"When did you ever do anything your mother didn't want you to do?"

"I am admittedly a poor example of that philosophy," Phil laughed. "Although, she did want me to settle down. She used to say that she hated the idea of me being alone. She always wanted me to get married. Have children. A family of my own."

"And that wasn't what you wanted?" Carol asked with genuine curiosity.

"I did," he answered. "But, like you, I realized it wasn't exactly smart. Not in my situation."

"You have a second chance now," she urged gently. "There's still time." But when Phil only smiled and shook his head, she continued, "Why not? I don't understand why not? If that's what you want, Phil, you can still have it."

"Because we can't always live the life we want to live either," he answered. 

"That's not true."

"Carol, I'm happy," he assured her. "I've made my peace with it and I couldn't do anything other than what I am doing now. Not knowing what I know. Not without doing everything in my power to make a difference. And I have a family, in my own way."

She looked at him for a long time before finally rolling her eyes and shaking her head at him in disbelief.

"You haven't called."

"That's not-"

"Phil, you should call," Carol argued, cutting him off. "You have to at least tell her you're alive. She's going to find out eventually given all the press surrounding SHIELD and the Avengers. She should hear it from you."

"This is not open for discussion," Phil said sternly, getting to his feet and moving towards the kitchen with Carol fast on his heels.

"How can you not tell her?" she asked as he went about making a cup of coffee and subtly ignoring her. "She didn't run off and get married, did she? She's still single, right?"

"It's better this way," he said with a weary sigh.

"For who?" she fired back at him. "Easier, yes. Better is debatable."

"Carol, you know why. You're being purposefully obtuse."

"And you're being a purposeful ass," she returned as she poured her own cup of coffee. "We're not talking about the same thing, and you know it. Me not wanting to bring an innocent child into this world is not comparable to you Mr. Bate'ing this woman in Portland who is an adult and capable of making her own decisions."

"Did you just say...?" Phil asked, eyebrow raised skeptically.

"Mr. Bate'ing," Carol sighed. "Mr. Bates. From Downton Abbey. He's the valet. He's all noble and crap, and always making these stupid decisions without telling Anna. For her own good, of course, when he should just talk to her but... That's not... I have a lot of downtime," she said as he began to laugh. "This isn't funny. Phil, I'm serious. You can't decide this for her. It isn't fair."

"I'm not deciding anything for her, just for myself."

"By conveniently omitting the fact that you are not dead."

"You may have a point," he said reluctantly, "but what if I don't know what I want? What if a relationship just isn't feasible right now?"

"That's fine," Carol answered, "but you still owe it to her to tell the truth. You can't fake your death to get out of calling a girl back, Bug. That's bad form."

"I wasn't thinking of it that way."

"You don't have to date anyone," she continued. "I'm not saying to buy this woman a ring or pledge your undying devotion. I know I don't feel like the person I was before."

"Neither do I."

"And we've agreed we're both okay with that," she said looking him directly in the eyes, "but we don't have to cut ties and start over. Not completely."

"I will... I will consider it," he said after a pause.

"Good."

Phil gave her a wry smile before raising his cup of coffee in her direction.

"To Carol Danvers. Purveyor of cats, quality television and unsolicited advice."

"To Phil Coulson. A better man than Mr. Bates."

They clinked their glasses together before taking a sip and then broke into laughter.

"Mr. Bates," he snickered, shaking his head.

"What did you think I said?" she asked with a wicked smile.

"We'll talk about it later."


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! Last chapter!

Natasha spent her day at the gym falling mindlessly into her regular workout routine. She left only after Steve arrived and before he could attempt to engage her in any kind of conversation. She didn't want to talk. Not to Steve. Not to Tony. Not to anyone, if she could help it. However, she would not hide. That wasn't how she operated, and it never would be, so after the gym she showered, changed, and headed to the lab for her usual session with Bruce. And, even if she was a little relieved to find him alone, she didn't let it show.

"I wasn't expecting you today," he said with surprise, clearing his throat and twisting in his chair to better face her as she entered the room.

"Why wouldn't I be here?" she asked back at him, logging into the terminal she typically used. "There's no mission, so we work."

Bruce hesitated for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and loading up the program he'd designed to help Natasha weed out any remaining subliminal programming that was lingering in her subconscious. She started it up, shifting through the various pictures in hopes of eliminating any response they might trigger, but after some time grew restless.

Something was wrong.

Sliding off the headset, Natasha moved just enough to catch Bruce in her peripheral vision. Watching him, she realized what was off about the situation.

He wasn't working.

Bruce was facing his station, as he usually was, but he wasn't working. He wasn't typing. He wasn't reading. He was just staring at the image, but she could tell he wasn't absorbing any new information.

"Should I leave?" she asked, startling him out of his thoughts.

"No, that's not..."

"You're angry with me," she concluded, getting to her feet as he let out a weary sigh.

"That doesn't mean you have to leave," he returned, gesturing for her to return to her seat. "You have as much right as I do to this space."

"Not if my presence agitates you," she countered, and she hadn't meant to, but it came out as hurt. Natasha liked Bruce. She considered him a friend. She hadn't meant to upset him or anyone with her actions, but that didn't mean she regretted them. It didn't mean she wouldn't do it all again.

"Tasha, I just don't understand how you could do that," Bruce sighed, standing up and partially blocking her exit in an effort to convince her not to go. "He trusted you," he said, shaking his head. "We trusted you."

"I wasn't making a statement. I wasn't picking a side," Natasha insisted as she folded her arms across her chest. "I was protecting him."

"From what?"

"Himself."

"You and Tony seem awfully convinced -"

"Because we're right," she interrupted. "Clint is..." Natasha said, shutting her eyes briefly as she shook her head. "I know him and I know when something is wrong."

"When you say wrong..."

"Not -" she started, shaking her head in exasperation. "No. Not that wrong," she finished, almost smiling at the look of relief that washed over Bruce's face. "Clint is still himself but... but I know him. I know him almost better than I know myself. He's been off. Lately, it's been worse. He wasn't prepared for a fight."

"He managed."

"Yes," Natasha agreed. "He did. He usually does but... but I'm not willing to risk... I won't lose him to pride."

"You won't lose him," Bruce stuttered, his expression softening as he realized her intentions had been good.

"You're wrong," she whispered to herself, dropping her eyes and turning her head as she mentally added 'one day I will' to that sentiment.

It was inevitable. Natasha knew it. Everyone knew it.

They were on borrowed time, and some days she felt like that time was being wasted. If she didn't lose him to the madness that was their lives, time would eventually do the job. Natasha didn't age the way as Clint. Right now it wasn't an issue, but soon enough... someday it would be.

"Listen," Bruce said, sinking back into his chair and relieved to see Natasha mirror the action, "I can't pretend that this... that all of this doesn't bother me. Even if it wasn't meant to be deceptive, it felt that way. I can't judge your relationship with Clint, or what's right and normal between the two of you. It isn't fair of me to judge it, or you, or anyone... Especially since... It isn't right," he said, waving off the beginning of what was sounding like a confession. "I've spent so much of my life hiding, I hoped this was the one place I wouldn't have to."

"Bruce -"

"Please," he said, shaking his head. "Just listen for a moment and tell me the truth when I've done." Bruce paused to assess the look on her face and waited until she gave him a slight nod of consent. "Thank you," he sighed, stopping again to pull his thoughts together. "I need a promise from you, Tasha. Something... I need you to promise me that there will be no lies between us. No deceit. No shades of gray. No half-truths or white lies. None of that." When her expression changed, subtly - it was always subtle with her, he continued, "Only on my behalf. Only about me. Don't lie to me about me."

"And yesterday qualifies?" she asked, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Yes."

"How?"

"I was surprised."

"And you don't like surprises," she returned.

"I really don't," he said earnestly.

"I'll cancel the party."

"I'm being serious."

"I know," she intoned softly. "I know you are... I'm just trying to connect the dots. If you want complete honesty from me..."

Bruce dropped his eyes before getting back on his feet and pacing the room. Natasha stayed seated, watching his progress around the lab before he returned, crossing his arms but clearly ill at ease.

"He disapproves."

"Of me?" Natasha asked, knowing who they were talking about without needing to ask.

"No," Bruce said, shaking his head in agitation as he bounced on the balls of his feet. "Not of you. Of liars," he tacked on reluctantly.

But Natasha wasn't bothered by the label. She'd been called worse. And she did lie. It was useful and sometimes necessary.

She had other concerns at the moment.

"He knows when you've been lied to?"

"Not like that," he dismissed. Bruce wasn't trying to claim that the Hulk was some kind of lie detector. "But I think-"

"Think?"

"He knows what I know," Bruce admitted.

"He's aware," Natasha stated, and after a pause Bruce gave her a crisp nod. "Everything that happens to you, he feels-"

"I wouldn't go that far," Bruce interrupted.

"But you knew that, didn't you? You had to know he has some level of awareness," she said, troubled by his obvious distress. "The other guy knows us when he shows up. He's familiar with us."

"I always assumed he could sense... You're right," he sighed. "I knew he had some level of awareness but... but for some time now I've... I've begun to realize it's a lot more than that. It's a much higher level of awareness. It's not just my impressions of the people around me, it's my feelings. My thoughts. He knows what's happening even when he's not around."

"How do you figure that?"

"He knew Clint wasn't really dead. No one told him. He just knew."

"Maybe he never knew he was dead to begin with," she suggested.

"He trusted Bobbi the first mission out," Bruce continued. "Maria. Jasper. Carol. Anyone new to the team, he trusts like he knows them and... and it's because he does."

"Bruce..."

"I didn't mean to get so deep into this," he said with a shrug, averting his eyes from hers and leaving Natasha to wonder if he was only referring to their conversation or to more. "I just meant to say that I need you to be honest with me because the other guy is pretty black and white. I don't want him reacting negatively towards you because of any problems we might have. I don't think he will but to be safe... to keep you safe, we need to stay honest with one another. If he's gleaning this information subconsciously or... or consciously, the best course of action is to be open."

Natasha stared at Bruce, uncertain how to respond. 

Uncertain if he understood what he'd just said.

The two of them were easily the two most closed-off, secretive, introverts of the bunch.

"That shouldn't be difficult," Natasha finally said with a sarcastic lilt as Bruce looked her in the eyes, paused, and then laughed.

"I don't want to be mad at you," he said after a sobering pause.

"I don't want that either," she relented. "And not because of the other guy," she clarified. "Bruce... I'm sorry if I upset you. None of this... I didn't mean to get so deep into this, either."

After that, things seemed to revert back to the way they'd been. The tension between them was erased and the rest of the day passed by swiftly.

When dinner time rolled around it seemed as if Natasha wasn't the only one bent on opting out of the group meal they usually enjoyed. The Chinese food ordered in, likely by Darcy, had already been broken into, but no one had stuck around the kitchen or dining room to eat. She had every intention of taking off with a plate of her own when Maria and Steve entered the room, momentarily halting her progress with their greetings.

That they weren't ignoring her was something, even if Steve looked a bit reluctant.

Eyeing the single plate of food she'd been carrying, he cleared his throat and finally looked her in the eye.

"Have you talked with Clint?"

Natasha's own eyes followed his and she understood. Steve either thought she'd been bringing Clint a plate to wherever it was he was currently hiding, or if that wasn't the case, that she should be at least trying to find him and force him out.

"Not since this morning," she admitted, catching the concern that flitted across his features.

"I didn't tell her," Bruce said as he entered the room.

"Tell me what?"

"Stark gave Barton an ultimatum," Maria answered as she pulled down a few new plates. "Fess up or get out."

Natasha turned her eyes to Bruce who gave her a sheepish shrug as he mouthed the word 'sorry'.

"I thought you'd talk some sense into him by now," Steve said, still looking concern. While he'd agreed that forcing the issue was the only option left, the later it became, and the less he heard, the more worried over the outcome he grew.

"I've been..." Natasha said, shaking her head with a sigh. "You can't talk sense into Clint."

"That's what I told him," Maria muttered.

"Well, you can talk to him, can't you?" Steve asked.

"I was giving him space," Natasha continued defensively. "If he wanted my opinion -"

"Maybe he needed your support," Steve interrupted.

"Don't," Natasha said sharply.

Steve shut his mouth, aware that Natasha must know best in this matter, but still not liking it.

"I assumed you'd already spoken," Bruce admitted.

Natasha shook her head slightly, not wanting to say that she hadn't seen Clint since leaving the meeting room with Fury. That she hadn't thought to look for him because that's just how things were between them. 

If Clint had needed her, he would find her.

And if he didn't...

"Well," Maria said, "it's not like Barton would leave without saying something."

"Clint's been back for awhile now," Darcy replied, having entered the kitchen as the other woman had began to speak. "Tony, too. They're in the workshop if you're looking for them."

"What are they doing in there?" Bruce asked surprised.

"Building things?" Darcy shrugged as she dug into the egg rolls. "I don't know. Something technical, I'm sure. Honestly, I don't know what the heck any of you do around here. Don't care either. I'm kind of paid to not be too nosey."

"Were they fighting?" Maria asked.

"No," Darcy said with a dry laugh. "Why? Are they supposed to be?"

"Everything seemed normal?" Steve asked, momentarily ignoring Darcy's questions.

"Define normal."

"This is ridiculous," Natasha said with a huff, setting down her plate and stalking out of the room.

There was only one way to find out what had or had not happened.

As soon as she was in sight of the workshop, Natasha could see everything was fine. Tony and Clint both appeared relaxed, sitting across from one another. Laughing. They were laughing.

And for some reason, that pissed her off.

Natasha barged into the workshop, crossing her arms and glaring first at Tony and then at Clint.

"Dumpling?" Tony offered, holding up a plate.

"Shut up," she dismissed. "What the hell is going on?" she asked Clint directly.

Clint had the decency to appear ashamed, dropping his eyes and pressing his lips together briefly before glancing at Tony.

"Well," Tony sighed as he got to his feet. "You two obviously need some alone time, and even if this is my -"

"Get out," Natasha said, cutting across his words.

"Okay then," Tony finished, clapping Clint on the back before heading towards the door.

"What's happened?" Natasha asked as soon as she knew Tony was really gone.

"You want to sit down?" Clint asked, motioning to the now vacant seat across from him.

"No," she said with a brisk shake of her head. "I don't. I want to know what this is about. I want to know how it got to the point where you were nearly kicked out of here. I want to know exactly what you are planning and why. And, most of all, I want to know why you didn't just tell me all of this and instead made me come down here and drag it out of you."

"You have a particular order you want all those answered in or..."

"Talk."

"Fine, but you're going to be really disappointed because I can't answer... I can't answer for most of that," Clint said with a shrug. "I don't know how it got this far. I guess the same way it always does; one step at a time. I do one thing, then another, and another... I look up and realize that I'm miles away from where I started and..." he paused, looking over his shoulder and pulling his shoulders up in confusion as he turned his eyes back to hers. "I wanted to tell you, but you make it so damn easy not to."

"Don't," she said, her tone softening some as she finally sat down.

"I'm not blaming you," he returned. "I'm really not. I didn't tell you because I was afraid. That's on me. I just meant that we don't push. I don't push you. You don't push me. It's worked so well for so long..."

"That's only for the small things. We're only supposed to skip the small things."

"And it was. Once. Way back there," he said, gesturing over his shoulder. "It started small but..."

"It was always Phil's job to drag things out of you. I should have tried. I should have realized."

"It's not your fault. Trust me. This is..."

"What is this?"

For a moment, Natasha wasn't sure Clint was going to answer. He covered his face with his hands as he leaned against the table. And then, just as suddenly, picked up one of the comm devices Clint and Tony had been dismantling before she arrived. Turning it over in his hand, he offered her an anxiety-laced smile before letting it fall from his fingertips.

"My hearing," he said plainly, looking her in the eyes as he spoke. "I finally hit my head one too many times. It's been on and off... It started off small and... and it just kept getting worse."

"What?" she asked, confused by his answer. She'd been expecting any number of things but not this. Natasha would never have guessed at this.

"My hearing," he repeated louder. "I can't hear."

"No."

"Yes, actually," Clint said, bemused by her blank stare. "I thought I was the only one going deaf, Tasha. Maybe you should get your ears checked out too."

"You're not going deaf," she said with a brutal toss of her head. She couldn't believe it, almost wouldn't believe it was true.

This couldn't be the problem, and it was too serious an issue for Clint to be so flippant. Natasha wasn't ready for this. Hurt, maybe. His shoulder, his back, his legs; all old injuries she could understand reoccurring. At the worst she'd thought maybe it was his brother.

Natasha wasn't prepared for something more. 

"You're right, I'm not going deaf. I'm already about halfway there."

"This isn't funny."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way because if I don't laugh about it, I'll think about it, and given my track record, if I do too much of that I'll end up skipping my surgery and pretending everything is fine," he replied, his voice gradually rising in intensity and volume with each passing word. "Same as I've been doing and a lot of fucking good that's done."

"Surgery?" she repeated as it finally sunk it that he was serious. More than serious, he was scared.

"They think they can repair some of the damage to my middle ear," he said, sighing heavily as he stopped trying to make light of the situation.

"When?"

"Wednesday. The soonest the doctor can do it is Wednesday if... if I want to."

"What do you mean if? You have to get this fixed."

"It won't... Tasha, it won't fix it. Not completely."

"But there's a chance -"

"We went to three specialists today," Clint interrupted to explain, once more keeping his tone light. "I have hearing loss. A lot of it and it's permanent. End of that story. With surgery, I might regain some hearing or... or it does no good and I've put myself out of commission longer for absolutely nothing. It's a gamble. The good news is that Tony thinks that in a few weeks he could rig up a hearing aid powerful enough to give me actual bionic hearing, although I told him I'd settle for something closer to average."

Natasha held Clint's gaze and could see his smile briefly falter. 

Now wasn't the time for questions.

Reaching out, she took hold of his hands and squeezed them in her own. Natasha leaned forward and Clint mimicked the movement until their foreheads were practically touching. Closing the distance between them, she left a lingering kiss on his lips. She wanted to say something, anything to let him know that she would be there for him, but was at a loss. 

Natasha combed her fingers over the top of his head, trailing kisses along his jaw, his temple, his forehead. Finally, unable to stand the obstacles between them, she stood up and tugged Clint willingly into her arms.

"You're not alone anymore," she said, leaning back to ensure he could see her face as she spoke. "Neither am I, and we can't pretend to be. Together we haven't been lonely, but that's not good enough. You were right. We deserve more."

"You're not just saying all this because -"

"I'm saying all of this because I love you," Natasha interrupted. "And I know changing won't be easy."

"Old habits."

"That's right," she said with a slight smile, "but I think we've... we've always done what we've had to do. Now I think it's time we do what we want to do. And I want a life. This life. With you."

"With me?" he asked, resting his hands on her hips as she slung her arms around his neck. "I'm a mess."

"And I haven't helped."

"Stop it," he whispered, pressing his lips briefly to her forehead. "You didn't know because I wouldn't tell you."

"I didn't know because I was afraid to really ask," she admitted.

"So we're both messed up," he shrugged. "We'll work on it."

"We can," she agreed, taking his face into her hands and focusing his attention on her as she spoke. "And I'm starting now. You have to have that surgery."

"Tasha -"

"If there's a chance, you have to take it," Natasha urged. "I know you. You'll put it off, delay it and hope it gets better on its own, because you're afraid to risk what you already have. But, I'm telling you, you're not going to lose anything. Not your place here. Not me. Not a single thing."

"It may not help. It might not do any good at all and then..."

"And then we'll see what's next," she supplied.

"And what if I just don't want to do it? It's still my choice."

"Of course it is," she said sincerely. " And if you really don't want to go through it then I'll support you. But I don't want you to say no because you think you can't afford to stop and recuperate. That isn't true. This isn't SHIELD. No one is going to dismiss you because you're not pulling your weight."

"You'd think after spending a whole day with Stark repeating that on loop I'd get it but..."

"Old habits."

"I know you're right," he sighed, "but I still want to think it over. I've been dealing with it for a long time but... but the information is still new. I don't think I've really processed anything anyone has said to me today."

"If you need to talk about it..."

"You really are trying to change," he said with a faint laugh.

"Yes, well... I don't want to lose you. Not to anything. Certainly not to neglect."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to lose you, either. Especially not because of my own brand of stupidity. Next time you ask me what's wrong, I'll answer with the truth. No matter what."

"And the next time you are upfront with me, about something I might not agree with," she returned, "I won't go behind your back to do what I think needs to be done anyway."

"But you'll still do it," Clint said, smiling bigger than before because he knew the answer.

"Change is hard," Natasha sighed, briefly rolling her eyes but unable to keep herself from laughing at the end.

As long as they still had one another, everything was going to work out just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this for a number of reasons. First, halfway through it I realized Tony would not take any of this "behind his back" stuff very well. Then I realized I could either drag out Clint hiding his problems for the rest of this series (I have no idea how long that will actually be to be honest) or he could trust a little. Obviously, he still needed to be prodded, but ultimately I think it left Clint and Natasha in a better place then they started out in; one I wasn't sure they needed to be in at the time, but now I feel they do. I'm likely taking a break through the holidays, so I hope everyone enjoys those! And thanks again to everyone for reading, commenting, kudo'ing, favoriting -- EVERYTHING, I may take forever and a day to reply, but every bit of it makes my day! Also, thank you to my beta, Tripp3235, who reads all of this again and again without complaint. THANKS!


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